DETHtooth
by Ranekaera
Summary: A story about Toki, and no, it's not slash! That must be a first! Going through some old photos, he finds one he doesn't know and soon goes on a harrowing journey through his homeland to find her! PLEASE r&r! CHAPTER 22 IS UP!THE END! NOTHER ONE COMING UP
1. A viking gift

Hey, finally, another dethklok story! This one is mostly from Toki's POV because it's about him and his family. This is gonna be sooo cuuute!! I know, cute isn't metal in the least, but hell, even Toki can't be metal all the time, right?

Just review!

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Snow whipped their clothing out and around them and the snow glared a ghostly blue.The wind sounded like breath going through a deep bell.

Lillehammer, Norway was a grim place to grow up, indeed. However, it was well away from the hustle and bustle of the modern folk and their blasphemous ideas about love and music and family.

Treacherous.

Anja Wartooth carried a tightly wrapped bundle in her arms, protecting it from the bitter, chilling cold. Although Aslaug did not generaly permit it (it was inappropriate anywhere outside a church or a picnic), she was humming a Norwegian lullaby under her breath.

They had left young Toki behind to watch the house. He was six, he was old enough to know a stranger from a friend. He would be fine.

Who would not be fine was the bundle in her arms. This child... would be a harbinger of doom. She sensed it in her bones and so did Aslaug.

Up ahead in the distance, they could see a thin, weak light and snow reflecting off of icicles. The building they were headed for was just ahead. Bleak, gray and weatherbeaten bricks revealed a sign overhead. Lillehammer leskur.

Aslaug knocked on the door and looked at his wife. She slowly and gently set the baby down. The blankets fell away to reveal a shock of light brown hair that was slowly turning red, the color of hell beneathe them. They could not hope to raise such a child.

They turned and began walking away, back into the driving blizzard, back towards home where a young boy awaited their return.

When the storm had died down and the owner of the shelter opened the door the next morning to get the newspaper, it was to find a baby wrapped in blankets. Well, it wasn't a first. It had viking hair and blue eyes to match the shadows on the snow. A pretty child.

He picked the babe up and as he did so, a note slid out of the bundle. He bent down and retrieved it. There was only a name and the word Lillehammer.

Freya Wartooth.

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PLEASE REVIEW!!!!! Leskur is Norwegian for shelter, in case anyone was wondering. Freya is pronounced (FRAY-ah) and is derived from Norse mythology, the goddess of love and beauty. She would take half the people slain in battle with her to her kingdom.


	2. Photo albums and lies

Jumping into Toki's head isn;'t easy, but it's not hard either. Please review!

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Toki slammed his bedroom door. Stupid dildos, what did they know about rythm guitar?? Ansd Skwisgaar never let up on his skills! Never! He was all like 'they sucks' or 'what was wrong with your guitar'!

No one respected him... to them, he was just a little brother! He'd show them! He'd show them he deserved their respect as a fellow Dethklok member!

He angrily kicked the side of his bed and stubbed his toe.

He didn't care though.

He sat on the edge of his bed, bent down and retrieved the box that had poked out when he had kicked it. It was a shabby old box filld with photographs taken from his home in Lillehammer, he remembered. He hd never bothered to go through them, however.

He needed to blow off some steam, so he decided to go through them now. Maybe looking at them would take his mind off things for awhile.

He tore off the lid and it split in two.

"Pff. Dat sucks," he muttered bitterly.

The photos weren;t arranged or even organized into piles. They were scattered, as if someone had dumped them in here and hidden them. Well, it was pretty much what he had done.

There were poloroids and snapshots and then there were pictures that had actually been developed. Wallet sized phots, portrait sized ones, medium sized ones. Everywhere he looked, though, his face looked miserable. Had his childhood really sucked that much?

Pawing through them was just depressing him more. Then his hand lighted on one that didn't feature him at all.

He picked it out and studied it, not sure what he was seeing.

There was his mother and father, standing next to each other but not touching. That was for the bedroom, he remembered them telling him. No hand holding, no hugging. Bedroom. Well screw them! He was in a band now, he could do whatever he wanted!

But who was the baby?

The closer he looked, the less likely he thought it was him. For one thing, as long as he could remember, his parents had dressed him in black and blue. This baby was wearing black and black. Plus the hair was thicker. Who was this?

He flipped it over, hoping to get a name, and his luch must have been with him.

Scribbled on the back in barely legible handwriting were the words "Anja and Aslaug Wartooth and Freya."

Who was Freya?

Slightly disturbed, he gabbed his Dethphone off the dresser and called home. His parents had only gotten a phone very recently.

Someone answered on the other end, but there was no hello. It must be his father.

"Hello? It's me, Toki," he said.

Aslaug still said nothing. He rarely ever did.

"Can I speaks to mom?" he asked him.

There was a rustling sound and a woman's thin, weak voice said hello.

"Hi, mom! It's me," he said

"Toki Wartooth. You should send letters or something," said his mother in stern Norwegian. Toki, not realizing it, found himself lapsing back into the language of his homeland, too. His language was 100 better.

"Mum, I've been looking through pictures. I found one with a baby in it. I don't think it's me, though, it says Freya on the back. Mom, who's Freya?" he demanded.

There was a pause. His mother obviously didn't want him to know.

"Daughter of a friend," said his mother slowly, as if thinking hard. Toki knew she was lying. But his mother never lied! Who to believe?

He stared into the tin grains of the gray photo in his hand and believed more and more that his parents knew somethinghe didn't.

"Thanks, mom," he said and he hung up.

He sighed and sat back down on his bed, holding the photograph. The baby's name was Freya. No last name. And as far as he knew, neither of his parents had friends outside the church. Why would they lie to him? And ... just why?

He scrunched the photo up in his fist and threw it. It landed a foot away from him, face up.

Perhaps it was the indignity of always being treated like a kid or maybe it wsa the mystery of the baby in the picture, but he wanted out of Mordhaus for awhile. To go back home to Norway. Maybe he could find out for himself.

He got up and went in search of his fellow band members to lay out his demands.

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Uh, oh, Toki really wants to do something about this whole little kid thing. In this, he's 24, because I think that just sound right. PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. Mordhaus, Michigan

Yes, I have taken the liberty of landing Mordhaus in Michigan this time, because I really don't know a lot about Norway. Then again... I don't really know a lot about Michigan either! hahaha. Anyways, Toki is absolutely adamant. Curiosity killed the cat.

REVIEW!

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"You wanna what?"

Nathan was talking. Toki had found them all in the studio recording another song and he had sat on the switch panels until they had payed attention to him.

"I wants ta go back to Norway, dat's what I said," he repeated, folding his arms across his chest.

"Why you wanna go back there? It's cold," Pickles pointed out. Normally, Toki got along well with the drummer, even if he was sometimes sarcastic, but not this time. Toki would go back home even if he had to drive himself, and he didn't have a driver's license. He wanted to know why his parents were lying to him and who Freya was. The most logical place to start was home. Lillehammer Norway.

"We're going there anyways, Toki. On de tour, remembers? Or dids you forgots?" asked Skwisgaar from inside the studio. The talk-back mic was on and he could hear them talking.

"I didn't forgets, I just wants to go sooner then the tours, dat's all. Is dat so much ask??" he burst out. Nearly everyone was taken by surprise. Normally, he wasn't this assertive.

"Uhhh, no," said Nathan.

"Goods den let's go nows!" shouted Toki. He figured the only way to get them to listen to him was to be like them; loud, obnoxious and stubborn.

"Alrights, okays! We're goings!" said Skwisgaar loudly.

Smiling to himself, Toki got up off the electronics equipment and walked out of the room to go pack. Norway was cold. He would need more than just a t-shirt.

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Yes, I'm trying to incorporate shorter chapters so I don't bore you all stupid. Please review!


	4. Talk or I'll strip!

Hey, okay, 4 chapters in one day is tiring, but these are short, so I guess it's not really a big deal.

The band is currently flying over Norway.

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Toki stayed to himself for the most part of the trip overseas. The others were talking abuot him in a corner, but he could hear them and he didn't care anyway.

In his pocket was the scrunched up photo he had thrown. He didn't know why he'd brought it with him, but maybe it could heklp him find who he was looking for. He had no way of knowing how long ago it had been taken, after all, and the baby might still be a baby, although he doubted it. He hadn't been back home in Norway for a few years at least. Only for tours.

Below them, the snowy countryside unfolded. Dead and barren trees, snow drifts and abandoned buildings rolled by many feet below them. They were near the village where he grew up, surrounded by desolate buildings and very very few people.

"Take us downs here!" he called out, and Murderface pushed the button that alerted the Hatredcopter's pilot that they wanted him to land.

The copter descended and crushed a building or two beneathe it, very close to his parent's home. They had landed practically in the backyard, the building dwarfed by the enormous steel copter.

He saw his parents emerge from the building and he couldn;t get off the copter fast enough. Deep down inside, he hated his parents, but on the surface, he was at least happy to see familiar faces that weren't Dethklok.

He hugged them both and got no response from either of them.

"I'm back!" he cried in English. Then, remembering that they barely knew English, switched to Norwegian. He repeated himself, but for all the good it did, he might as well have been screaming at a tree.

The rest of the band followed him out, dressed in the usual, and Skwisgaar immediately swore.

"Too fucking cold out here, I'm goin' back inside!" growled Nathan, and he retreated back into the Hatredcopter.

Skwisgaar was bearing up, but barely. Toki glared at him and rolled his eyes; he was wearing his long pants and a light down jacket, blue. His long brown hair blew out in the wind.

"Mom, tell me the truth. Who is Freya? I know you were lying on the dethphone!" he asked his mother in undertones so his father wouldn't hear.

His mother simply stared at the photo he held out to her.

This trip was useless, his parents barely ever said a word unless they felt they had to! It was a wonder he even learned how to talk at all! How to get them to talk... hmm...

He shrugged his jacket off, and even though the wind tore through his t shirt, making him shiver, he pulled that off, too.

"Woo hoo, looks at mes! I'm strippings in da winds!" he called out in English, laughing and dancing.

The rest of Dethklok were staring openmouthed at his antics in the middle of a slight blizzard, but he was used to this. He had pulled many a stunt like this as a child, trying to get a reaction out of his normally-silent parents.

As was expected, his father yelled at him and his mother stood gaping, outraged. He knew what she was thinking; how dare he bare his body for the world to see, right? Well, fuck them! They didn't want to tell him nothing, he would strip in the middle of a blizzard!

"Put your clothes back on, young man, and right now! You want to know who Freya is? Fine!" yelled his father in Norwegian. Both his parents crossed themselves at the sound of the name Freya.

Satisfied, knowing that it still worked just as well now as it did when he was 13, he shook the snow out of his clothes and pulled them back on, shivering. The snow had made them damp. Hell with it.

His parents beckoned to the members of Dethklok that were still outside shivering in the blizzard and turned back inside the house, which was falling into disrepair. Toki shut the door behind them.

"Freya is your younger sister. We turned her over to the shelter, for she was a child of great evil," said his father.

Toki was surprised. The rest of his band, however, just stared, confused. Of course, they had no idea what anyone was saying.

"He says dat Freya is my sisters. I gots a sisters!" he whispered to them. Understanding dawned on their faces.

"You wanted to come all the way out here to nowhere and find a girl? Aw, geez, I'm goin back on the Hatredcopter with Nathan, this sucks," said Murderface, and he left.

Now it was just him, Skwisgaar and Pickles.

The house was exactly as he remembered it. Threadbare couch, clean swept floors, no television set, ugly rugs on the floor and no pictures on the wall. Dreary.

"What do you mean she was a child of evil?" Toki asked indignantly, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to one side. His parents had some downright strange ideas.

"A viking child. Red hair. Imminent doom. We could not have raised her," said his mother in fluent Norwegian.

He was used to the term viking child, at least. He got called that by reviewers and fans all over the world every day. But the vikings were long gone, everyone knew that! True, it was superstitious belief that people with red hair were usually hard to manage, but still... to abandon her??

"Where did she go?" he asked them.

"We do not know," said his father, and that was that. They would say nothing more on the subject.

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PLEASE REVIEW!!


	5. Dedstranded

Before I start his chapter, I have something to say. First, the woodsy area I describe in this is purely fictional, as I'm sure it doesn't exist where I'm throwing it. Secondly,

MOO

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Toki grudgingly led the remaining three band members onto the Hatredcopter, which, compared to the chill winds, was a blazing inferno. Toki uncomfotably removed his jacket.

"Dra til Lillehammer. Det er et leskur der."

Nathan and the others stared at him.

He slapped a hand to his forehead. He had had trouble switching between languages when he was first learning english. He corrected himself.

"I saids go to Lillehammer, dere's a shelter dere!" he said, silghtly irritated. Would it kill these guys to pick up a book? Distantly, he knew his annoyance was misplaced. Anyone's would have been upon finding out that their parents lied to them and that they had a sister they never knew about.

But the shelter was stop two on his list.

"Here!" said Toki, not twenty minutes later.

As the copter descended again, Toki didn;t need to tell his friends to stay behind; they knew how cold it was outside. Skwisgaar, however, stopped him. He stared at him, a strange look on his face, before saying, "hell."

It was the Norwegian word for luck. He was wishing him luck. Strangely sentimental from someone Toki professed to hate at least twice a day.

Nonetheless, Toki appreciated it, jackass as ther Swede could sometimes be. In terms of countries and origins, they were practically neighbors, after all.

Toki left the Hatredcopter and stepped almost directly into the shelter.

The inside wasn't half as bleak as the outside was. The walls had been painted forest green and the trim was a light eggshell color.

There was a desk to his right and an old man was watching him.

"Do you know where there's a girl named Freya Wartooth?" he asked the man.

He seemed to watch him for a moment, before replying, "when she left, she asked me to leave her whereabouts unknown. I'm sorry, Toki Wartooth. I cannot help you."

Toki slumped, feeeling defeaed. Would no one treat him his age? He was 24, not 2! For the first time, he got angry.

He slammed his fist dowon on the desk, making the man jump, and for that he felt a little bad.

"She's my sister! I never knew her growing up and I want to know her now! Please! You have to tell me where she is!" he said in Norwegian. While he spoke, he pulled out the crumpled photograph and flung it at the man.

Unbeknownst to Toki, Nathan and Skwisgaar had followed him in and merely glanced in at him from the doorway.

"Whats he saying? I've never heard him talk like that before," asked Nathan in a hushed voice.

Skwisgaar shrugged. In truth, he knew almost exactly what Toki was saying. Although he wasn't Norwegian, the two countries _were_ side by side and people often crossed borders. He understood enough.

"He wants to knows his sisters," he replied.

The man sighed and pulled something out of a desk drawer in front of him. He slid a battered, once-glossy photo across the desk at him and told him where she had gone.

He looked at the photo. It showed a teenager with long, thick red hair, the color of freshly spilt blood and his same eyes, color and shape exactly. If they hadn't been related, he would have thought her pretty. All he could see of her clothes wasn;t impressive; they looked little more than hand-me-downs.

Toki thanked him and held the picture to his chest.

He wasn't sure why he wanted so badly to know his sister. Maybe it was so he wouldn;t have to be stuck with Dethklok 24-7? No. It was because he wanted some sort of family that didn't chastice him for being him. He was who he was and he couldn't help it.

He went back on board the Hatredcopter and on his way, stopped in to let the pilot know where to go and how to get there.

Dethklok waited for him.

"Dude, is that her?" asked Pickles, pointing to the half concealed photo in Toki's hand.

Toki handed the picture to Pickles and he whistled.

"She looks a lot younger than you. You're not a little brother, are you?" asked Pickles.

Toki shrugged. He hadn't payed it much thought.

Suddenly, they were all thrown sideways. Toki nearly landed in the fireplace.

"YAAAA!!!" he screamed.

The world was tilting, the furniture was falling, things broke and in the turmoil, Toki lost his grip on his sister's photo.

"No!" he cried, but his voice was lost in the turmoil. He distantly heard the Hatredcopter pilot's voice screaming that they had run out of fuel and somethign was wrong with the rotar blades, and then he hit his head on something and blacked out.

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PLEASE REVIEW!!!!


	6. Frostskog

JUMPING RIGHT INTO IT!

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He wasn't sure what happened. One minute he had lost his newfound picture, the next, he was waking up in a pool of his own blood.

He looked around. They had landed in the right location, at least. The frosty forest, officially named Frostskog.

"Nathan! Pickle! Skwisgaar, Murderface! Where ares you???" he called out.

He stood up and immediately got dizzy. His hair stuck to the side of his face and when he put a hand up to unstick it, it came away fred. His head was bleeding, but the cold of the blizzard was numbing it. His hair was turned maroon on that side.

He steadied himself and looked around. The Hatredcopter had crash landed, stopped dead in midair and simply fallen. The pilot was climbing inside of the controls room, trying to fix the problem. He ignored him.

From beneath the snow, he spotted a shock of black hair.

"Nathan?"

He struggled forwad in the deepening snow and buried his arm to the elbow, looking for a hand. He felt a nose. Ew.

He repositioned his hand and found fingers. This time he pulled as hard as he could. Nathan Explosion exploded out of the snow like a very angry and the world's most disoriented daisy. His lips were blue and his skin was almost as pale as the snow around them. The storm was getting worse.

"Toki!" said Nathan. He was shovering and his clothes were soaking wet with melted snow.

"Where's Murderface adn de others?" Toki yelled over the wind.

"Do I look like I fucking know?!" Nathan yelled back.

"Skwisgaaaaar! Murderfaaaace! Piickleeee!!!!! Where are yous!" Toki yelled out.

" 'M right here, douchebags," said a voice, and they both spun around. There, huddled beneath a tree and favoring his left arm was the Dethklok drummer. Said arm was drenched in blood.

"Pickle!" exclaimed Toki, glad to see him okay, and he rushed forward.

In the distance he heard a dog barking and sincerely hoped it wasn't wolves.

"Murderface is okay, he woke up before you guys did. He's in the Hatredcopter," said Pickle. Up close, Pickles's arm didn't look so hot. Toki saw bone. They would have to cancel the tour.

"You know, this is all your goddamn fault!" Nathan yelled over the blizzard. He looked deranged and his face was twisted in an expression of hatred.

Toki shrunk back, slightly hurt.

"Alls you cares abouts is de stupids tour! Nots me!" Toki shot back.

"It's not always about you, Toki!" he yelled back.

"Well, why cant's I's has family I dont's hate! Huh?" he screamed back.

"SHUTS UP!" came a new voice. They both looked to the side and saw Skwisgaar, his blonde hair turned bright red with blood. He was bleeding rather badly and wasn't walking straight.

Nathan helped the guitarist under the same tree as Pickles. It's snow covered branches offered some protection from the wind and the ground there was at least moderately snow-free. Skwisgaar's skin was paler than Toki had ever seen it. He had lost a lot of blood.

"Whos gots a dethphones?" he asked.

"Mine got smashed in the crash," grumbled Nathan, still glaring at Toki as if this whole thing were his fault.

"I lefts mine at Mordhaus," he said, still angry with Nathan for getting angry with him.

"Anyone seen Murderface?" asked Pickles.

They were all silent, pondering their positions here. The Hatredcopter had crashed. None of them had their phones. Murderface was, so far, missing. They were stranded dead near a forest in the middle No-Man's-Land, Norway.

"MURDERFACE!" Nathan yelled. His voice was so deep, it carried over the wind.

From beneath the snow rose what looked like a corpse. Murderface was missing another tooth besides the gap in the front of his teeth and his skin was so pale it was blue. His normally neat hair was messed up, making it look like a spiky affro.

The barking of what Toki was now sure was wolves was getting closer.

"Uh, guys? We shoudls gets out of heres. I tink dere's wolv ez," said Toki.

Murderface joined them under the tree and began shivering so badly that Toki gave him his down jacket.

They all sat there in the driving blizzard, blleding and shivering, waiting for the pilot to get things fixed.

The barking got closer.

"We should gets aways from heres," said Toki again, glancing behind them. The woods were appropriately named, he thought. Too much so. The snow made it almost impossoble to see more than trees. If there were wolves coming, he would feel them before he saw them.

"Shut up," growled Nathan.

Toki withdrew to hhimself once more, feeling more like a teenager again than the adult he was.

Drawing his knees up to his chest, he shivered and stared at the blodo-churned snow before him. A single tear slipped down his cheek, turning the blood there pink.

Maybe this _was_ all his fault.

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The dog didn't know what had happened but he certainly smelled blood.

He strained at his runner, trying desperately to get off of it. If he could get off, he could run and if he could run, he coudl satiate his curiosity.

Finally, the leash snapped and he bolted. He ignored his master's hissed shouts and ran as fast as his long legs would carry him, towards the talking and the smokle and the smell of blood and humans.

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Toki felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up. It was Pickles.

"Hey, man, he dont mean nothing by it. He's just pissed that we landed in the middle'a someplace freezing," he said gently. His lips were slowly turning purple and the skin og his upper arms were raised in bumps.

Toki didn't say anything. He felt too bad to say anything. If he even opened his mouth, he was afraid he would cry. He had never felt so much like a little kid as he did now.

"Someone tell that fucking dog to shutup?" snapped Nathan, glaring at the trees as if they had somehow wronged him.

No one dared say anything.

"I'm fucking cold!" Murderface yelled at the sky. He was slowly losing his voice. If they didn't get he copter back up and running soon, they would all get so sick they would wish they were dead, thought Toki. Already, Skwisgaar was trying to sleep. The others were pushing him to stay awake. He might not wake up again if they let him rest.

The barking was right behind them now and before he could stop it, he had been bowled over by an enormous animal, shaggy fur in his face, rancid breath on his neck.

It was a dog. An enormous, shaggy dog.

Toki sat up, surprised to find a dog in the middle of Frostkrog and noticed it had a collar and a piece of broken leash attached to it.

"Someone's dog?" asked Murderface.

"It's de wolv ez comes to takes me aways to Valhalla.." muttered Skwisgaar. He was delerious.

The dog began barking again, wagging its tail and panting. Its fur was thick and very white.

"You think it wants us to follow it?" asked Pickles.

"Nothing else to do, why the fuck not," growled Nathan.

Again, no one heeded him. Toki helped Skwisgaar to his feet and Murderface helped Pickles. They decided to entertain the dog.

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PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!


	7. Saved by the gods

Straight into it! My ideas are running! Can;t stop!

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They followed the dog deeper and deeper into the woods, all the while being entertained by Murderface's opinions. They should have stayed with the Hatredcopter, why the fuck were they following a damned mutt through the godforsaken woods, and what the hell were they gonna do for the tour.

Toki was the most willing to follow the dog, mostly because it took his mind off his angry band members. He was willing to bet that Pickles and the others blamed him, too, not just Nathan. Would they kick him out of the band?

The dog wated and doubled back, urging them to keep up, barking the whole time. He seemed to be following some sort of rough path. The snow was slightly trampled with footsteps.

Was the dog taking them to Freya? The man at the shelter had said this was where she lived. Perhaps the dog was hers?

More determined than ever, Toki began calling her name, the name of a Norse goddess, and the name of his little sister. If ever the goddess Freya guideed slain soldiers anywhere, he hoped in hs mind she would lead them to some sort of shelter.

"Odin, blir! Dårlig hund!"

"What was that?" asked Skwisgaar, breathing heavily. He was being supported by Nathan and Murderface, not being able to walk alright on his own.

"FREYA?" Toki called.

The dog barked joyfully, wagging its tail, and it brought them into a small clearing surrounded by snow. Inthe middle of the clearing sat a beaten down camper, perhaps 30 feet long or so. The lights were yellow and warm looking and smoke furled out of a funnel in the roof. Where there was smoek there was warmth.

A teenager saw them and came running, her feet clad in nothing more than sandals. She wore very thin clothes, all black and hurried over to them, long, straggly red hair flowing behind her. It was her. It was Freya. His sister!

She hurried over the the three men hobbling in the snow and Toki noticed Pickles staring.

"Oh my god," she muttered. She was toucvhing Skwisgaar's blleding head, his blonde hair now completely red with blood, and immediately began helping them all towards the camper trailer.

Toki opened the door for the rest of them and waited until the dog was inside too, before going in after them and closing the door.

The inside was surprisingly spacious and uncramped. There weren't a lot of things in there. A small drum set was crammed into a small living room space and the kitchen portion was immaculate. A pot of something boiled on a small range stove. Toki drank in the warmth as if he had never felt it.

The red haired girl disappeared beind a narrow door and came out with several towels and a bucket of water.

She made Skwisgaar sit on the steps leading to what looked like a bedroom and sat beside him, starting to wash the cut on his head, being very gentle about it. Skwisgaar was now trying to fall asleep again, but Murderface boldly slapped him.

"Stops slappings at my face!" he yelled.

"Then stop falling asleep, you Swedish dildo licker!" Murderface countered. He could manage nothing more than a whisper now.

"He's right, you know. If you fall asleep, you might not wake up," said the girl Her voice was husky and deep, but quiet. She sounded like the kind of person who was usally quiet but could be fierce if need be. She was speaking flawless english, but her accent was almost as thick as Skwisgaar's. Norwegian, thought Toki, with some pride. Like him. His sister.

His head was swimming again, so he tok a seat in the living area with Nathan and Pickles.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Nathan said nothing, sighed and leaned back.

"What's the dog's name?" asked Murderface. He was motioning towards the enormous Irish wolfhound on the floor.

"Odin," said Freya, and at the sound of his name, the dog got to his feet and, climbing the stairs, began to gently lick Skwisgaar's face clean of blood.

"He likes you," the girl said, smiling ruefully, and she finished cleeaning the cut on the blonde;s head. She gently snipped the blood-clotted hair away from the wound, leaving a small blald patch where she could affix a bandage. For a trailer in the middle of the woods, she was well stocked.

She suggested they all change out of their wet clothes and let them dry. She had a dryer in the bathroom.

"We gots nothings to change back intos," said Toki.

"I have extra shirts and things, sit around in your underwear if you want. I won't be paying attention," she said, shrugging. She tossed said shirts at them and Toki caught his. Black and very worn through. It might reach his thighs.

He wouldn't strip in front of his sister, even if he had just met her.

Nathan, on the other hand, began stripping immediately, underwear and all, slipping one of the shirts on and setting another over his bare lap. He said nothing.

She got up and turned her backls to them, stirring the contents of the pot. She stirred in more pasta it looked like and turned the heat down.

"Odin, drar leggeer ned," she said, not turning away, and the dog got to his feet and climbed up into the sleeper with Skwisgaar.

"Would you all just stop talking wierd?" asked Nathan finally.

"I can't help it if he won't listen to orders in english, and please stop snapping," said Freya.

Nathan muttered something unintelligable and Freya Wartooth ignored him.

She began getting out bowls and began doling out macaroni and cheese to them all, complete with spoons and drinks. It was an unexpected bit of hospitality in the bitter cold.

"Take it or don't, it won;'t hurt my feelings any. You guys just looked freezing," she said, at meeting Nathan's stony glare. He finally accepted the steaming bowl and began eating like the rest of them. Toki smiled. He knew Nathan was grateful for the warm and the hot food. He just wouldn't admit it.

"Come here, please," she said, beckoning him to the newly unoccupied stairs.

Toki got up and answered her, sitting beside her on the steps.

Blue looked into blue and they recognized each other for who they were. Brother and sister.

"You're bleeding too, you know," she said finally.

Toki shrugged, touching a hand to the now tacky blood coating the side of his head and face. It didn't really hurt.

She dipped a rag into the basin of bloody water and wring it out. Toki let her clean the cuton his head but wouldn't let her cut his hair as she had done with Skwisgaar. She let it air dry and merely washed most of the blood from his long hair with a different towel.

Nathan tied the extra t shirt around his waist and went into the bathroom, presumably to shove his wet clothes into the dryer she had said she had in there. Murderface followed suit, although he hadn't bothered with covering his bits. He hated his body anyway. He hated pretty much everything about himself.

"How did you know about me?" she finally asked him.

Toki took out the rumpled baby picture and handed it to her.

"Thos're our parents," he told her in Norwegian, but quietly so Nathan wouldn't get annnoyed.

She stared at the picture for a long time before handing it back to him.

She left his side with a wry smile and began doling out a little food into another plastic bowl and went past him up the stairs to try and convince Skwisgaar to eat something.

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PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!! It gets better!


	8. Come with us

MoOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Toki, MuderfaceNathan and Pickles all watched her as she crawled up into the bedroom space. It was sort of cramped, but she didn't stay on the mattress. Instead kneeled on the floor beside it and, shaking Skwisgaar awake, tried convincing him to eat something.

The Swede sat up, leaning his bare back against the wall, and began slowly eating macaroni and cheese.

Her work finished, she came down and began cleaning off the stove, putting the leeftovers into a refridgerator. Looking over her shoulder, Toki saw condiments, other leftovers, milk, juice and what looked suspiciously like liquor.

"Don'ts you wants to know our parents?" he said.

The others just watched and listened. This was between Toki and Freya, not Dethklok.

She whirled around to look at him, her hair flying out and Toki noticed it was slightly wavy. There was sadness in her eyes.

"I've met them, okay? They didn't say a damn word the whole time. I gave up and decided I'd just stay an orphan," she said bitterly.

No one dared say anything now. Toki wondered why she didn;t pull a stunt like he used to; it usually made them say something, even if it was insulting.

"How did you finds them?" he asked.

She looked at him sarcastically, raising an eyebrow, and when she spoke it was dripping with sarcasm.

"How ...common d'you _think_ a name like Wartooth is, anyway? It wasn't hard, that and they left their calling card. Lillehammer," she replied.

Toki felt stung. His parents had had a daughter, his sister, abandoned her for so stupid as red hair and here she was. Angry, bitter, sarcastic. Did she have a lighter side like he did? Would she even accept him as family? She had to.

"Did you knows your brother?" he asked more quietly.

She slumped visibly and, walking past him, opened a drawer on the way up the stairs. It was filled with cd cases and she pulled out every album they had ever made, which was about 3.

"Of course I guessed. Your eyes are just like mine, and your name..." she trailed off.

She replaced the cd's and simply sat on the top step, her arms folded. She didn't say anything.

"Well... this is fun. We should get back to the Hatredcopter now and see if the pilot got it fixed yet," said Murderface, sipping the special drink Freya had made him. Iced tea with lemon juice and a touch of honey for his throat.

"Ouch," muttered Pickles. He was poking at his broken arm, bored.

Freya glanced at him, then his arm.

"Sorry, I didn't notice before. I was just surprised, one of my favorite metal bands coming through the snow... does it hurt a lot?" she asked, coming down and sitting on he couch beside the drummer.

"One of your favorite metal bands? We're like the best metal band," said Nathan. Freya shot him a look and he shut up.

"Doesn't hurt too much, but I could go for a beer," said Pickles, glancing down at his bleeding arm and then up at her face. Toki noticed that look. He liked her.

"I don't really know a lot about broken bones. Your best bet is a hospital," she admitted, gently studying the compound fracture.

"Just gimme a beer and I'll pretend you never said that. I wanna set the damn thing," Pickles complained.

She got to her feet and took out the bottle of liqupr she had in there. She handed it to him and while he drank, they all watched her work. She ran her fingers over his un-wounded upper arm, feeling along the bone. He had broken one of the bones in his forearm. There would be no drumming for him for at least a month.

She took his lower arm in her hands and, looking slightly grossed out and very nervous, she gave it a hard, sharp yank.

There was a small cracking sound and the bone stopped poking out through the skin.

"Oh, ag," she said, looking slightly nauseated. She got to her feet and went into the bathroom. A moment later, they heard her throw up.

"Sorry about that," she said, coming out of the bathroom, "I don't usually throw up at the sight of blood, I just don't like the sound that makes."

Pickles was staring at his arm disineterestedly. He moved his fingers a little bit.

"Great. Thanks," he said, taking another swig from the bottle.

Freya broke a piece of the straight plastic bordering the corner of a wall and broke it into an arm-splint sized piece. She had an ace bandage in hand already.

"It's not the best, but it'll do to remind you not to move it too much," she said, at Pickle's curious look.

"What're you, a nurse?" Nathan growled.

"No. Just thought I'd help," she said bitterly. She and Nathan were really kicking it off to a great start, thought Toki.

Once his arm was "splinted", the blood started to seep through, but as long as he had his booze, he was indifferent.

"So what now?" asked Toki, referring more to her situation than to Dethklok's.

She shrugged.

"I'm fine where I am," she replied.

"No, you're nots!" Toki demanded. She was fine with living in the middle of Frostskog with no friends and nothing but a dog, in blizzards and no one to talk to and nothing to do? HELL no! What kind of big brother would he be if he let her do that? They would move her trailer, too, if they had to.

Everyone stared at him.

"We can takes her with us," he said firmly.

"Toki- you've been awful bossy lately," began Murderface, his voice slowly coming back.

"You boss me around all de times! I think it's good I boss you around for a bit!" Toki said fiercely.

"Stops fighting or you'll be eatings your dinners for lunch," said Skwisgaar from up in the bedroom.

"You want us to take her with us? What about the dog? No way am I living with a fucking dog," said Nathan. Odin perked his ear up and looked at Nathan, whining.

"We takes de trailer wit us, too, den," said Toki, folding his arms.

"I'm fine where I am!"

They all stared at her. Her voice had gotten louder and deeper. Her eyes looked exactly like Toki's when he got angry. In that moment, everything except her blood-colored hair screamed Wartooth. Their resemblance was shaking.

"Why are you so worried about me? You just met me!" said Freya.

Toki was slightly hurt, but he ignored it.

"Freya... yous my sister. And yous out here all alones in de snow and no one to talks to... Don;t you wants ta travel?" he asked, knowing full well that if they were related in any sense, her answer would be yes.

She bit her lip, but that was the only sign that she was crumbling.

"I've never been out of Norway, except to visit Sweden once to attend one of your concerts. You guys put on a good show, by the way," sh said, smiling shyly.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, mussing it up, the wild waves of it falling softly down her back. Pickles whistled and Toki was glad when Murderface nudged him.

"Please comes withs us?" Toki asked her. He tried pleading with his eyes, but he didn't think he was doing a very good job.

"You can brings Odin if you wants," he added.

"I only got Odin because the shelter demanded I get a dog if I was moving out, so I did," she said quietly, rubbing her temples.

"Cause you live alone," Nathan guessed.

"Yeah. Cause I live alone and I'm a girl," she snarled, her eyes flashing. It seemed people made this stereotype often because she seemed particularly fierce about it.

"Okay, we get it, you can leave the dog somewheres else," said Nathan, putting up his hands as if warding her off.

Odin padded up to the lead singer and reared up on his hind legs, putting his front paws on Nathan's shoulder. He just stood there, as if saying _watch it pal, I do have teeth_.

"What's with the dog?" Nathan asked.

Freya shrugged.

"He must like you," she replied.

Dude, that dog is taller than you standing," said Pickles, taking another swig of the liquor Freya had handed him. Freya began wiping the floor dry with a towel, using her foot, which was bare. She had the same wierd toes as Toki, the second longer than the first.

"So? Will you comes with us?" asked Toki again. He really didn't want to leave his sister here alone. It wasn't because she was a girl. It was because he wanted to get to know her better, and it was hard to do that from Michigan if she was in Norway.

"Please?" he held a hand out to her and gave her a crooked smile.

She hesitated a moment.

"I can take the traiiler with me," she said.

"Sure, whatever," said Nathan.

Toki kept his hand out.

She smiled and took it. Brother and sister were reunited again.

"I'll come," she said.

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PLEASE REVIEW!! You know, I think I write these fics not because I need to get the ideas out of my head (okay, I DO write them for that) but mostly to get reviews. No reviews makes me sad!


	9. Discovery

Hey, there's gonna be a LOT of snow in this one. hahaha please review!

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"So now what do we do?: The Hateedcopter isn't fixed yet, or it would have come by now, looking for us. We'd have heard it," said Murderface.

They were all seated in the living area, with the exception of Skwisgaar, who was still resting. The tv was on, but no one was watching it. Nathan had put it on mute when he noticed it was mostly in Norwegian.

"Maybe he hasn't fixed it yet," Freya suggested.

She got up from her seat squeezed in between Pickles and Murderface and sat on the floor, scratching the wiry fur around Odin's neck and ears.

"Wanna see a trick he knew when I got him?" she asked.

"Sure! I likes tricks," said Toki, trying to make light of the grim situation.

Freya got to her feet and and grabbed a piece of paper, scribbled something on it and folded it up. She slipped it under Odin's collar and tied a little red ribbon round it so it wouldn't fall out. She opened the front door and shooed him out into the blizzard.

"You always do that, or just when you want a messenger pidgeon?" asked Murderface.

Freya smiled and watched the dog out the window.

"He'll find your pilot. I wrote him a note. Odin likes people, wherever they are, he'll find them," she assured them.

"What did you writes?" asked Toki, puzzled. He had never heard of a dog doing a trick like that outside the movies.

"I wrote to tell him to follow the dog here if the Hatredcopter is fixed. Send him back without the note if it's not fixable. Is that alright?" she asked.

Nathan made some sort of noise with his lips anxc leaned back. He rested his head on the back of the wrap around couch, his hair bunching up behind his neck, and closed his eyes. It seemed he didn't really care.

"Yeah, that's fine," said Pickles.

"Hey, sshush! Lokks on da news!" Toki suddenly cried. He grabbed the remote out of Nathan's lap and turned it up so he could hear. The anchorwoman was talking in rapid Norwegian. They were shooting live from somewhere.

"We don't understand your language, Toki," said Nathan loudly, not opening his eyes.

"I cans transklate for yous, shush!" Toki said impatiently.

"We are live on the road to Frostskog, where locals say something huge crash landed on the edge of the forest, one man claims it was the Hatredcopter, the helicopter owned and operated by the international Metal band Dethklok-"

"Dey knows abouts da crash!" Toki exclaimed.

"Oh, great, now those asshole're gonna come around here," groaned Nathan.

"I don't want the media around here, either! I hope Odin gets to the pilot before those lot do," said Freya. Now she looked slightly nervous.

"Can you drive this thing?" asked Pickles. He was looking beyond them at the wall, where he knew the rather small cab for the truck itself was.

Freya bit her lip and nodded uncertainly and shooed them all away from the wall. She bent down and rolled up the wall. It folded in on itself and came to a rest at the top like a window shade. The front of the truck was spotless, as if it had never been used. She went in ahead of them and got in the driver's seat. She started the engine.

She took off. It was clear that she had never driven the trailer before, because they all went flying. Nathan rolled onto the floor, Toki rolled into him, the TV slid to the floor with a crash and the glass shattered. It went out in a shower of sparks.

Up in the bedroom, Skwisgaar yelled out as he rolled off the mattress that served as a bed.

"Let me drive dat thing!" cried Pickles, and ignoring the fact that his arm was broken and badly splinted, he shoved her gently out of the driver's seat and began driving himself. The trailer got back on track.

He flipped on the windshield wipers and they could still see smoke in the distance. Just ahead of them was Odin. He was alone.

Pickles pulled over and Freya untangled herself from the jumble of legs on the floor and opened the door for him. Pickles set off again andf didn't stop this time until they came out of the forest and saw the Hatredcopter. The pilot stood in the way, waving his arms above his head. The trailer stopped and Pickles joined them in leaving it.

"Is it fixed?" Pickles called out. The pilot nodded in his bulky helmet and behind him, what roadies usually flew with them on the Hatredcopter turned and began filing back onto the copter. It had been repositioned. It now lay on top of the snow and upright, towering high above their heads.

Murderface and Nathan immediately got on, presumable to put more clothes on.

"Drive the trailer into the copter and let's get outta dis harrible place," said Pickles.

Toki folowed them all in, glad at last to have finally found his sister.

His _younger_ sister. He wasn't going to be treated like a little brother anymore. He could show her around Mordhaus and tell her about everyone and everything and hang out with her when the others picked on him too much. This was going to be great!

He watched as she drove the trailer into the belly of the Hatredcopter. She climbed out and gaped in awe at the inside of copter.

It was done entirely in shades of red silver and black. The interior was very gothic and all of the draped on it were shredded and covered in what looked like dust. The chandeliers were covered in foot long spikes and skulls were everywhere. In fact, every room they went to, everything was painted black.

"This thing... is... awesome... There aren't any words for it..." said Freya, completely in awe. Her eyes were very wide and she couldn't seem to close her jaw.

Toki guessed she liked it.

"Well, thanks to whatever was wrong with the Hatredcopter we can't do the tour. I guess next stop is home," said Murderface.

"Very well, my lords. Next stop Mordhaus. We can get you all fixed up there," said the pilot.

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PLEASE REVIEW!! I decided to throw a random cab on the tailer because it just fit in somehow. I know I never mentioned it before, but there is one now, so meh.

The earlier chapter, called saved by the gods, refers to the fact that both the dog and Toki's sister share names with ancient Norse gods. Just wanteed to clear that up.

PLEASE REVIEW!!! See that little scroll down thingy there? Click it!


	10. Mordhaus

Yesssss, the name of my (hopefully) future house, located on a tract of land called Mordland... Seriously. That;s what I wanna do. And hopefully I can share with my bestest friend in the whole wide world of douchebags!! She knows who she is :D

I was thinking of making the blood loss make Skwisgaar retarded, hahaha, but meeehe. It just wouldn't be Skwisgaar.

PLEASE REVIEW!

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Toki entertained his little sister throughout the entire ride. Skwisgaar was laying in the trailer still, being watched over by Odin, and Murderface and Nathan were both in a hot tub, warming up. Pickles was popping pain medication that Toki was willing to bet wasn't prescribed to him.

He was showing her what photo albums he had, pictures of him as a kid, sitting on clown's laps, eating cotton candy at fairs that he had attended alone because his parents didn't believe in such places. Mini golfing with them, which was something they did do. He explained all about Mordhaus and Mordland and performing onstage, and all the while, she just smiled, imagining it all.

They were speakin English when she brought up the subject of languages.

"Your english isn't very good, but you must have to speak it all the time in America. Should I too? What one is easier for you?" she asked.

Toki thought about it. Talking in their native tongue among themselves wasn't a big deal. He shrugged.

"We can speaks Norways between us if you wants, but de others don't gets it," he replied.

"We will be touching down at Mordhaus in approximately 25 minutes, my lords!" came the pilot's voice over the loudspeaker.

"Cool. What's Mordhaus like?" she asked in Norwegian.

Toki collected his thoughts together before answering her in his native language.

"It's dark and bleak and really cool. It's got spikes everywhere and great big curtains and a hot tub and lots of space!" he began describing it to her. As he talked, her eyes got bigger and bigger and she smiled. Being a big brother was going to be so cool!

And if anyone fucked with her, he's kick their asses.

"Come ons, let's go see Skwisgaar and tell him we almost dere," he said in English once more. He led her out of his quarters abord the Hatredcopter and down into the cargo hold where they normally kept the stage and where there was now a thirty-someodd foot camper trailer.

Upon entering, he was bowled over by the dog and he fell backwards and hit his head on the floor. His vision swam again; his head had not even begun to heal and he felt the scab break open again, pouring blood down the side of his face. It still didn't hurt.

"Odin! Bad dog!" scolded Freya. She helped Toki to his feet and let the dog pace around the room. They had closed the door out of the cargo hold, so he couldn't roam the Hatredcopter and bug everyone.

"Heys, Skwisgaar! We's almost dere!" Toki called into the camper.

A moment later, the guitarist stumbled down the stairs. His hair was dried maroon and he was still very pale. He looked like he might be related to Freya himself.

His head had started bleeding again, too, Toki noticed.

Sjwisgaar began sluggishly getting dressed into clothes that he had apparently thrown into the dryer. How he knew how to use one was a mystery to Toki, as none of the band ever did their own laundry. They sure as hell couldn't cook.

He guessed desperate times called for desperate measures.

Skwisgaar stumbled out of the camper and held a hand to the cut on his head. His fingers came away bloody.

Toki put an arm around one of his shoulder, steadying his back with one hand and Freya got his other side. Together, they hobble-hopped Skwisgaar into the main room where the door off the copter was. They left Odin in the trailer.

The copter started to descend and Freya Wartooth got her first look at her new home.

Mordhaus.

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PLEASE REVIEW!!


	11. Recovery

Hey, I'm not really sure where this is going, exactly... many thanks to Luma and Lunagoddessoffoxes for all the reviews. SUGGESTIONS ARE MORE THAN WELCOME! I know you'll prob be the first, Jo, and thanks ahead of time. :D Thanks as well to schmo, you make my hellish life worth living. You are my rock that grounds my murderish tendencies, people should be thanking you!

BLOOD RO CU TED!!!

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Toki couldn't help but grin at his sister's reaction to the huge estate. Mordhaus was situated in its own little town called Mordland, and it took up more than 100 acres.

The sky was a clouded black and throbbing red most of the time and the main section of the haus was huge and shaped like a viking dragon, including 13-foot long spikes. There were several gloomy-looking towers and a few were shaped like guitars. They had their own little mini hospital, which resembled something out of a comic book and was covered in the same black spikes and thorns, and it was painted black with a red cross.

There was a courtyard and garden, where they had most of their barbeques, and the hedges were clipped to look like dragons and demons. Naked cherubs spouted blood-colored water from little penises and best of all, in Toki's opinion, it was loaded with arcade games.

"Wow... whoa..." was all Freya could think of saying.

"Welcomes to your new homes!" Toki said, and he put an arm around one of her thin shoulders. He didn't like how bony she felt. She was too thin.

While the band went on ahead to the infirmary of Mordhaus, Toki began showing his little sister around.

"You should go up to the infirmary too, you know," she pointed out.

"Okay, fines!" he gave in, and he led her along with the rest of the band, to the infirmary.

Once inside, Nathan called out for the doctor on staff at Mordhaus. He conveniently didn't have a name. Inside, the infirmary appeared to be just like any ordinary hospital.

Nathan and and Murderface were both sitting on examination tables in nothing but their underwear. Nathan's were black and Murdferface wasn't wearing any. Freya averted her gaze.

Skwisgaar was sitting beside both of them, also wearing nothing, but he had the decency to put a nearby pillow over his bits as Freya walked in. He had a new bandage affixed to his head and his blonde hair was being scrubbed clean of blood by the doctor. The table was set low enough so that he could.

Murderface was breathing wierd.

"Novachaine," he mumbled around a mouth full of some sort of clear, shiny goop. Ah, yeah. His missing tooth, remembered Toki. Novacaine worked good on teeth.

"Dood, lookit my arm," said Pickles mournfully, glancing down. His arm was half plastered in a cast that went up to his elbow. Apparently, the doctor wasn't used to patching up four men at the same time.

"There's nothing wrong with me, I'm just sitting up here. In. My underwear," said Nathan conversationally. He looked bored.

"Can I help with anything?" Freya asked the Dethklok doctor.

The coctor looked over at her, slightly distracted (skwisgaar kept moving his head) and waved a vague hand at the tray full of plaster and wrappings next to Pickles.

"Whatever... finish casting his arm, I've already started," he said.

Freya dipped an uncertain hand in the tray and came out with what looked like a strip of paper mache made out of canvas or something.

"It's cold," she said, making a face, and she began applying the strips to Pickles' half plastered arm.

"Easy," he warned as she poked at his thumb by accident.

"Sorry," she muttered, and at the doctor's request started applying the black plasticy rolls of material. It looked like the crepe paper you hung at birthday parties, only it was black.

Once that was done, she stuck it together with a bit of adhesive and the doctor finished cleaning Skwisgaar's hair, muttering that he was a doctor, not a hair stylist.

Pickle's arm looked good as gold when it came to the cast.

Freya's first meeting with Charles Ofdensen, however, was less than pleasant.

He opened the doors and had a Dethphone in his hand.

"Bad news, boys, since you are all, ah, injured, we had to cancel the upcoming tour promoting your next album," he said. He saw Freya and frowned.

"And who're you?"

"Freya Wartooth. I'm Toki's younger sister," she said, not faltering a bit. She may have a quiet, deep voice, but she wasn't timid by any stretch.

"Uh huh. I didn't know Toki had a sister. Well, is she staying?" he asked the band.

"A course she stays! What kinds a brother do you sink I ams!" Toki said, somewhat annoyed. Really, Charles was a good manager and good with the numbers, but sometimes he just didn't get it.

"Very well. Would you like an escort to a free room, then?" he asked her.

"I have a camper of my own, thanks. I just need somewhere to put it. I also have a dog," she replied.

"Are you kidding? We don't have camper hookups here, campers are not metal. This ain't an RV club, kid," growled Nathan.

"Then why the hell did you tell me to bring it?" she asked.

"Um... dat was Toki's ideas," Skwisgaar pointed out.

No one said anything for a moment.

"Fine. I'll sell it off. What about Odin?" she said, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"Who?"

"The dog, Mr. Ofdensen," she replied.

"The dog is house broken, yes?" he asked.

"Of course. He's trained, too," she replied scathingly.

"Then the dog is fine."

"Good."

Toki allowed the doctor to take a look at the gash on the side of his head and he sighed. He didn't like being fawned over. He was fine!

"Can I explore the place a bit while you guys are in here?" asked Freya.

"Huh? oh, uhhhh... yeah, sure, fine. Have a roadie show you around," said Nathan absentmindedly.

"Freya, cans you comes here?" he asked, struck by an inspiration.

Freya stopped within a foot of him and Toki pulled her into a little hug.

"I'm glads to has you for a sisters," he said.

He had never seen anyone blulsh as red as she did right then.

She walked out of the infirmary.

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PLEASE REVIEW!


	12. Freya's soujurn

For those who wanted to get to know Freya better, this one's from her POV. Please review!!

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Freya allowed one of the roadies to escort her through Mordhaus. He was about Toki's height

Speaking of Toki...

She had known she hasd a brother, had even half hoped it was the Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, but the actualization of Dethklok _looking_ for her... or had it maybe been Toki's idea? He had found a picture of her as a baby with his parents... which made the connection obvious.

Ever since she was a kid, she had hoped her rather unique last name would lead her to her birth parents, and when she had finally found them, she had been so unbelievably heartbroken and so disappointed that she hadn't been able to say a word to them, aside from hello and goodbye. They had just stared at her... crossed themselves, as if she had some contagious disease...

Her parents had never loved her. How could Toki?

But the hug she'd received... he had said he was glad to have a little sister. She wasn;t used to people caring about her. The only ones that did were her few friends from high school. And her one friend in England. She had never even been out of Norway.

Until now.

She sighed and looked around. She had been thinking so much that she hadn't realized her tour guide was talking to her.

"You with me so far? No one's allowed in the recording studio unless you have permission."

She nodded. They were passing the recording studio. It was hidden behind dark paneled glass. It was cold down here. She vaguely remembered being led down several steps.

The roadie noticed her rubbing her arms.

"Where do all the roadies sleep? Do you guys have a seperate part of Mordhaus to yourselves?" she asked.

"We have a seperate section, yeah, but it's pretty far from this one. Those towers scattered here and there on the outer edges of Mordland, those are where we live," the roadie replied. His voice was slightly muffled by his mask.

"Okay... so... what else is there to this place? Torture chambers?" she said, half joking. In truth, she liked the mix of medieval and gothic arcitechture.

"The torture chambers are down on the lower level. Wanna see them?" asked the roadie.

"Um... no thanks. Let's get out of here, it's cold," she said, shivering. Actually, she just wanted to see more of where her brother lived. Mordhaus was beautiful in a dark sort of way.

The roadie led her back upstairs and down the same corridor they had passed before. This time, the roadie led her up a short flight of stairs and into what appeared to be the biggest library she had ever seen in her life. From tower to floor, books. Who had any idea a band as one-track-minded as Dethklok read so many books?

They left the library and entered the main room of Mordhaus. Fireplace, arcade games, a dungeon-style bench, computer desk shaped like a giant saw blade, giant rug, torn drapes, plasma screen tv's dangling from giant fish hooks... this was the most awesome place she had ever stepped foot in.

"The saw blade table doubles as a hot tub," said the roadie, merely on a whim, and she saw the groove in the floor around said table that she thought must be some sort of hydrolic system. It looked as if it flipped around and the hot tub appeared in its place, filling with water.

Next they took a tour of the underground laboratories, where Dethklok had their own mini nuclear power plant, along with hired scientists and other personal. There was a second recording studio. A giant black and red submarine was docked at a nearby underground lake.

The roadie showed her where the band's bedrooms were located next but did not open any doors. She understood why, but she would like to have seen her brother's room.

"Can I see Toki's room?" she asked.

The roadie appeared to think for a moment, then shook his head.

" 'Fraid not, I don't wanna risk my job. I love working here," he said.

After that, he took her on a tour of the grounds. The grass was green, at least, but the sky overhead was cloudy. Hedges trimmed as dragons, just like Toki had told her. A tree that someone had carved the words "planet piss" into. A throw rug on the ground. They would probably bring it in if it rained.

"We have expert snipers stationed in and around Mordland. They can shoot a target about three miles away, so the security is tight. They've already been notified to not shoot you," explained her guide.

Looking where he pointed, she could see various towers, and indeed, a few other Dethklok roadies waved their guns in salute before maintaining their vigil.

"They know I'm here?" she asked. That was fast.

The roadie shrugged.

"They were notified "not to shoot the other red-head", if I remember the memo right. Anyway... that's Mordland. Do you want me to show you where they want you?" he asked. He must mean her bedroom.

She wanted to get Odin first, show him around, let him get to know the place.

"Sure. Just let me grab my dog," she said, nodding.

"Your trailer has already been parked in the parking lot and another roadie tied the dog outside. I'll get him. You wait here," he said, and he left her beside the picnic table outside.

She sat at the table and sighed, resting her chin in her hands. A gentle breeze kicked up, blowing her long hair with it. She frowned slightly at the sight of the bloodred waves. She liked her hair color; why hadn't her parents? It just made no sense.

She looked out over the land and smiled slightly, still a bit nostalgic for the icy hills of Norway. This was home now, she thought. Surrounded by metal and death, the only way to be. Blackened towers topped by bones, towering dragon-shaped monoliths covered in spines, Dethklok certainly lived in a nice place. But Michiganwas just... too warm. She didn't feel very good. Her head was starting to pound and her stomach felt all sloshy, like it did when you drank too much water on an empty stomach.

Moments later, the roadie returned, with Odin on a black leash. She noticed a spiked dog collar that she had't bought.

"A gift from Toki Wartooth," he said, noticing her gaze. She smiled. Her brother certainly had good taste. The collar made the enormous Wolfhound look like a monster.

She took the leash from the roadie and followed him back inside. He led her down the hallway that contained all the bedrooms and stopped outside a door shaped in typical gothic fashion, with black steel bands running across it. It looked like it belonged in the tower of london.

"Your bedroom, Ms. Wartooth," said the roadie. She frowned.

"It's Freya," she corrected him. Gods, she hated being called ms. Warooth. Ma'am was annoying, too.

"How about my lady," said the roadie, and although she couldn't see his face, she could tell by the sound of his voice that he waws frowining, unsure what to refer to her as. Obviously, the roadies weren't allowed to call their bosses anything except master or my lord.

"Fine," she said, giving in.

She opened the door and was greeted by a large bedroom. The walls were stone and even as she watched, two roadies finished moving all her stuff in place. They had even made up a small bed for Odin to sleep on. They exited, sending the devil horns at her roadie tour guide, and she walked in. Odin immediately jumped on his bed.

There were three towering windows, covered by the same torn red drapes she had seen in the main room. The bed was a four post, hold the curtains. The coveres were black and blood red, the headboard, shaped like a demonic skull, replete with ram horns and fangs. _Awesome._

There was a vanity against the opposite wall. The mirror was octagonal and the vanity was covered with what little make up she had had in the trailer. It seemed the roadies had emptied her previous home to furbish this one. Black nail polish, what normal make up she posessed for mundane things such as job interviews, pencils, pens, a box of tissues, tubes of paint in a cofee mug, the small stuff she'd had scattered hither and thither on the camper.

On the floor was a lush black carpet and settled in the corner of the room, away from everything else, was her drum kit. Next to that on a high shelf, but not so high so she couldn;t reach it, sat her stereo. The speakers had been nailed to the wall. All her things where here. She guessed this was home.

She turned to thank the roadie. He gave her the typical devil-horn salute and she returned it.

"I'm gonna stay in here for awhile. I'm not feeling so hot," she told him. He nodded and left.

Deciding she should get some rest (her stomach still felt queasy), she lay down on her new bed and closed her eyes, feeling she was home at last.

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PLEASE REVIEW!!!

hAHAHA, She;'s feeling sick because of something very similar to what I went through when I moved from Maine to Florida. My entire system was out of whack for almopst a year and I was sick as a dog the entire time. The climate change that severe will make you sick, lol.


	13. sIK

Hey, updating yet again. Please review. You know the drill. Enjoy.

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Toki was given a clean bill of health after his own head had een bandaged. Pickle's arm was now fully casted and he was advised to stay away from drumsticks for at least three weeks. Skwisgaar had been infused with blood from some blood donor or other and was slightly better now, albeit a bit woozy. He went off to lie down.

Nathan and Murderface went about their usual activities- drinking and lounging around.

Toki went to look for his sister. He wanted to know how she liked the place and if she liekd the bedroom he had told a roadie to pack up for her.

He went off in the direction of her new bedroom and asked a passing roadie if she was fine with it.

"She said she wasn't feeling well, my lord. She appeared to like it, though," he replied.

She wasn't feeling well? Was she sick? This was bad! What if she was too sick to be around?

He headed off towards the kitchen instead and found Jean Pierre, their deformed and hideous chef, hovering over a large pot full of something that smelled like chowder.

"Hey, Jean Pierre, does we gots any soup? Freya isn't feelings too well," he asked.

Pierre didn't jump; his nerves had been severed too badly from his run in with the Hatredcopters blades.

"I shall make some right away, master Wartooth. Does she prefer chicken or vegetable?" he asked, spit running down his chin.

Toki honestly didn't know. He knew _he'd_ prefer chicken noodle, cause vegetables sucked.

"Chicken," he replied.

Pierre hobbled over to the shelf near the stove and pulled down a can of the soup. Toki waited impatiently for Pierre to heat it up. He didn't often cook canned food, but he kept it on hand in case the power went out or the band wanted something different.

Pierre handed Toki a black tray with a bowl of heated chicken noodle soup on it, with a grilled cheese sandwhich, which he knew Toki liked. He was in the mood for a pickle herring sandwhich, actually, but he would wait until the others were fed too.

He thanked Pierre and left the kitchen, heading back towards the bedrooms, and he stopped outside Freya's new bedroom. There was a single bark from Odin and Toki gently nudged open the door with his toe, the tray balanced in one hand.

She was sitting up in the bed, dressed in the same clothes she had on before, reading a book. She certainly looked paler than before. She looked up as he came in and smiled.

"Hey Toki. Feeling any better?" she asked.

Toki carried the soup to the bedside table and sat on thr edge of her bed. The blankets were black and red.

"A roadie said you wasn't feeling too goods, so I brought you some soups!" he said brightly.

She went pink.

"I gots chicken, though, cause I didn't know if you liked Veggies," he said, handing her the tray. She held it on her lap and stirred it with the spoon.

"I guess it's just the climate change. It's making me sick. It'll probably go away once my body gets used to Michigan," she said, and she sipped some of the broth.

"Good," she said. "Thanks."

Toki watched her for a moment as she ate the noodles and chicken bits. She smiled.

"I hate vegetables. Thanks for going with chicken," she said finally, and she smiled. Toki nodded and smiled back.

"Wants ta play some arcade games whens you gets better?" he asked.

She slurped another noodle, swallowed it and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Sure, Toki," she replied.

Toki ruffled her wild, blood red waves playfully and got up to leave. Freya slurped her soup a bit more and on a whim, called him back just as he was about to walk out the door.

"Toki?"

He stopped, one hand on the doorway and looked back at her.

"I'm glad I have you for a brother."

There was never a brighter smile in the world.

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Exciting stuff ahead!!! Sorry, Jo, but there might be a nasty surprise for you ahead...(big huggles) Don't kill me!


	14. Planning a party, remembering lutefisk

Hey, at this point in time, I have no idea where the hell I'm taking this, all I know is whatever idea I have at one point or another, so suggestions are always accepted.

PLEASE REVIEW!

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Freya didn't get better for nearly two whole months, at which point Nathan (unfairly, in Toki's opinion) started complaining that she didn't do hardly anything around the Haus.

Toki had been sending roadies to her room with soup and grilled cheese, or else he had done it himself. He didn't mind helping her out. He knew he had liked it when his parents had brought him soup when he was sick as a kid. Aside from that, Christmas was the only other time they ever payed undue attention to him.

She was losing even more weight, and at the moment, thought Toki, looking across the table at her pale face, she looked like she weighed maybe half of what he did. Skwisgaar had taken to calling her Twiggy, at which point she started calling him Skwiggy. He stopped calling her Twiggy.

"I can't help it if I'm sick. What do you want me to do around here, anyway? You guys are the ones in the band, not me. I'm just the kid sister," she replied.

"Ah, come ons, Nathan. She's just a kids," said Skwisgaar.

They were all sitting at one of the big tables in Mordhaus, watching a giant plasma TV at the front of the room. They were demonstrating how to perform an autopsy. They were also eating.

"I dunno, maybe, just. I dunno," muttered Nathan. He must have figured she had a point, because he stopped complaining.

"How goes the new album, boys?" asked Charles Ofdensen from the front of the room.

There was general muttering from all around the table.

"Nathan. You're in charge here. How is it coming along?" asked Charles.

"Uhm... yeah. Cool. It's good," he replied.

"The label expecs it to be ready to put out by Halloween, you know. It's October first. I was thinking, to promote sales, we could combine the release party with a Halloween party, open to the fans, what do you think?" Charles suggested.

"Oh, god. I hate the stupid fans," grumbled Nathan.

"Yeah, dey're a bunch'a douchebags anyways, what do we care?" said Pickles.

"Well, I would hope you cared, Pickles. Your last mishap cost you millions. If we did this, the sales for the new album would nearly triple. I'd say it's in your best interest," said Charles.

There was silence for awhile. Finally, Nathan crumbled.

"Fine! We'll have the fucking Halloween party and the release party at the same time, then."

"Wise decision. I'll leave you for now," said Charles, and he left.

"Great. Now we gots ta deal with dese dildo fans. I don'ts celek brates Halloweens anyways," said Skwisgaar.

Freya shrugged.

"I used to sort of, I dunno. Scare people a little when I was younger, and I still like to now and then, but Halloween isn't really big in Norway, either. Kids in monster costumes? I wish I could have..." she said.

"Aww, come on, Halloweens is great! You gets free candy and gets ta scare the shit outta peoples! It's fun! Remember last year?" he asked Nathan.

"Yeah, too well. I ate some of your radioactive fish and nearly died, dick-brain. Your cooking sucks," he growled.

Toki decided to ignore him. (A/N: If anyone wants the article I got halloween in Norway info from, email me at the address on my profile, I give it to you, it's hilarious)

"I'm sorry, "radioactive fish"?" said Freya, spitting out half of her drink and inhaling the rest up her nose as she snorted laughter.

"It wasn't radioactive, it was lutefisk! You's _supposed_ to soaks it in lye!" Toki argued back. What was wrong with fish? Sometimes, he didn't think his band mates even liked the stuff.

"Oh. Yeah, I never liked that gunk. Tastes like cold snot," said Freya, thumping herself in the chest to try and cough up the liquid that'd been diverted through the wrong valve.

"You're not kidding," agreed Nathan, making a face.

"Hey, it's not dat bad!" said Skwisgaar.

"Thank yous," said Toki, folding his arms.

"It's worse," he said.

Freya had to duck because Tolki threw his chair at the Swede.

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A little bit of humour, for you all, so please review!


	15. Spencers gifts

I always wanted to do a shopping chappie, so here it is:D

You know what sort of annoys me? People who take their writing too seriously, like it's a job, who receive lots and ltos of reviews, but never bother to compliment other authors, who never accept criticism well and who leave themselves annonymous when they flame. COWARDS!..Oh yeah. And emos.

PLEASE REVIEW!

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Later that same day, the band got into their tour "bus" and headed down to the local mall.

"God, I hate the mall. So many stupid fans," Nathan grumbled. He was sitting back against one of the several bench/chairs Murderface sat in the lounge chair in front of the fireplace on the second floor, fiddling with a bass. Skwisgaar sat on the opposite side as Nathan and Toki sat on the floor, his back against another chair, playing on a laptop. Freya sat very close beside him so she could watch what he was doing. He was surfing through websites of various stores that were in the mall they were heading to, so they could go in, get what they were looking for and leave as soon as possible to avoid getting swamped by fans.

Sometimes being the twelfth largest economy in the world sucked.

Toi and the rest of Dethklok were going to the mall to buy costumes for the party. Skwisgaar didn't care one way or the other what he went as. As he said, he didn't celebrate Halloween.

For Freya, it would be a first. She had never dressed in costume before.

Toki wanted to go as a Viking, to make Freya feel better about the reason their parents had given her up. She was really starting to grow on him as a little sister. And better yet, the band had stopped treating him like such a little kid.

Now that designation fell on Freya.

She was only eighteen and being the youngest of all of them (in Pickle's case, a lot younger) she was now the little kid.

Toki blew a tuft of her red hair off his shoulder and scrolled down on the hot topic website. There was a special halloween portion to it now. They had goblins and corpses, naughty nurses and dominatrix... no viking. Damn.

He closed out of it and tried searching through Spencers gifts. They sometimes had good stuff for the holiday. It was more of the same. Corpses, hanged men, angels, devils, compliemtary accesaories, like bone staffs and horned headbands. He paused. They had imitation Viking helmets. Perfect! The price tag wasn't too bad either.

"I dunno what I should be," said Freya. She pulled her back in a black scrunchie thing and wisps of it fell out and framed her face.

"You name is Freya. Maybe you could be de goddess herselfs?" suggested Toki.

"Pfft. Not likely," she said, rolling her eyes.

"That would be a blasphemy to someone not nihilistic, Toki," said Skwisgaar, playing his guitar.

Freya chose to ignore him.

Toki continued on down and saw other various items that had to do with vikings, but as far as authenticity went, they resembled 19th century opera singers more than vikings.

He decided he was going to get the helmet and simply make the rest of it up as he went along.

He closed the laptop and just as he did, they felt the bus roll to a stop.

"Time to go!" said Pickles, holding, as he usually was, a bottle of booze.

They exited the bus through the automated double doors (lie the kind you see in malls and other shopping places) and straight ahead of them, there loomed the mall.

Cars and people wherever he looked.

The combined smell of fast food and oil filled the air like some invisible, heavy smog. Freya wrinkled her nose. In the bright sunlight, her hair looked as if it were on fire, and by comparison, her face looked stark white. She was still sick. It was amazing how someone so defiant could look so delicate.

Toki shielded his eyes against the bright October sunshine and they all began walking up to the doors, weaving in and out of cars. Someone snapped a picture. They payed no mind but Freya looked around. She wasn't used to the press, thought Toki.

Actually, it was the first time she had been spotted on an outing with the band. They had so far avoided it, to prevent any nasty rumors.

"Come ons, we's goin to Spencer!" said Toki, and he grabbed his sisters hand as if they were children again and began running towards the doors. Freya laughed and followed him.

As they went, Nathan rolled his eyes.

"They're like little kids," he grumbled.

Pickles slapped the vocalist on the back and smiled.

"Dey're not so bad. Specially Freya. She's a lot like Toki, but I dunno," he said.

"What, you gots a crush on her?" said Skwisgaar.

Pickles declined to comment.

No one noticed it, but Murderface declined as well.

They entered hell.

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Toki thought she really should dress like the ancient Norse goddess Freya. Looking at her from a different perspective, she did fit the bill. She was his sister, true, and he held no facination, but she was a pretty girl.

They were in Spencers and he had already purchased his viking helmet. Freya was simply looking around. They didn't have Spencers in Norway, he remembered. There was still a lot she had never seen and never heard of, he thought.

Over in the corner, he saw something rather odd; it was a leather body armor, complete with decorative embroidery near the collar. Spencer's didn't usually sell stuff like that, did they?

He took it down off the wall. There were leather lacings up and down the sides, to adjust the tightness of it, he noticed. It was obviously meant for a female. Why did it look so authentic?

"I'm sorry, sir, but that's for display only," said someone from behind him.

He turned and saw the man who worked there, wearing a black shirt. He was bald and covered in tatoos.

Toki wasn't giving up this rare find without a fight.

Clutching it to his chest as if it were a newborn someone was trying to steal, he made his best angry face.

"I don'ts care, I's still wants to buy it," he said defiantly.

The man glowered at him. For a moment, Toki was sure the man was going to have him kicked out. Unless he used his influence in Dethklok...

"I'm da guitarist for Dethklok, you dildoe, and I wants ta buy this," he said again.

The guy bareed his teeth for a moment, but when he heard the word dethklok, his expression changed.

"No shit! Toki Wartooth, in my store, as I live and breath! What was I thinking! Come on over here, then, and we'll get you checked out," he said.

Toi was a little confused as to his sudden change of character, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He bought the leather armor and, just to be safe, asked if it was designed for girls.

"Yeah, actually, as a matter of fact. Buyin it for the pretty girl?" asked the guy.

"Heeeeey!! That's my sister!" Toki said indignantly at the look the man wore.

"OH," he said, looking embarassed.

Toki stuffed the armor in the bag and went to find his sister gazing at a grim reaper display that was drippping blood out of a fountain.

"This place is cool," she said when she saw him coming out of the corner of her eye.

"Yeah, come ons, we's going," said Toki. He took her hand and walked out of the store, dragging her along.

He had never felt like a big brother, but he did now.

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PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!


	16. Pulling it together

Hey, Toki was feeling a little protective last chappie, huh? Whish MY brother did stuff like that, but I'm the oldest, so no go. Meh.

Anyway, Freya has no idea what Toki has hidden up his sleeve, but you'll know.

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Toki had his costume put together before they had even really finished their October album. He had scavenged a brown leather belt from Nathan's old warrior costume that he used during filming of their thunderhorse video. Instead of wearing it around his waist, he would strap it across his chest and connect knives and things to it. He had a viking tunic all prepared (something he had ordered offline) and he had his own boots from when he lived in Norway. It was cold there, after all, all he had needed to do was get the leg wrappings and the sword. He had his helmet. He was a viking.

Freya, on the other hand, wasn't doing much to prepare. It was a good thing she had him, Toki thought, sitting in his bedroom one night in the middle of October.

He was surfing the web, looking for some sort of hair circlet for her hair. It was like his, just a lot thicker and more wavy, he remembered, so he would need to find something that would hold it back.

He found what he was looking for and added it to his cart. He had been buying things off the net like this for as long as he could remember.

He also found a long, simple white skirt, goddess-cut, and bought that, too. It was lily-white and had a large slit up the sides of both legs. It rather resembled the bottom half of the roman tunics in that it was unkempt-looking and flowed rather gracefully.

He clicked "check out" and did what he had to do. He made it so they would be delivered faster than standard. With any luck, he would get them in about a week.

_Meanwhile..._

Freya had a secret.

Her worst fear was that Dethklok would find out.

She sat behind her drum kit, wearing an ankle length black skirt and a simple black t shirt, drumming, nothing complicated, nothing too loud.

If the guys ever found out about it, and demanded she play with them on an album, she was afraid she would die of embarassment. It was one thing to drum and sing vocals at the same time in the comfort of one's own berdroom. It was quite another to do it in the precense of five extremely talented death metal superstars.

At the moment, she was playing a song by a band she liked called Seether. It wasn't typically metal, persay, but it was good. It had a nice beat to it.

She finished the song with a particularly loud crash of the cymbals and just at that precise moment, the door opened. It was the very last person she wanted to hear her play drums.

Pickles.

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Toki closed his laptop shut and began trying on his halloween costume for the party. Everything fit just fine, but the tunic was itchy and uncomfortable, so he peeled it off and looked in a mirror. The belt thing across the chest looked wierd, so he shrugged it down around his waist and tightened it as far as it would go. Nathan was fatter than him.

He thought he looked a bit too bare chested, so he grabbed a rather ugly vest he had gotten as a gag gift one year for his birthday and shrugged it on. It was brown and a little furry and looked great with his boots and helmet.

For good measure, he braided a thick section of hair at the side of his face and tied it tight with a piece of rawhide string he had ripped off one of his boots.

For someone they all treated like a little kid sometimes, he didn't think he looked half bad.

He took everything off and pulled his usual clothes on again and went down to the studio to see if anyone needed his help.

_Meanwhile again..._

"Dood, was that you?" he asked.

She figured there was no use in hiding it now. He had probably been standing outside her door for awhile now.

"Yeah," she muttered. She set her drum sticks down on top of her floor tom and got up to leave and Pickles stepped aside for her.

They stood in the hallway outside her door.

"How long you bin playin' like that?" he asked.

She shrugged. Honestly, since she was like 11 years old.

"Eleven."

Pickles whistled and looked at her as if he had never seen her properly before.

"Not bad for seven years'a playin' drums. Why don't ya come down to the studio with us sumtime? Lissen to us play?" he invited her.

"I thought no one else was allowed down there?" she asked. She began walking and Pickles hurried to catch up. She was heading for her brother's room. She wanted to ask if she could borrow his laptop.

Pickles followed her.

"Sure. I'd like that. I've seen your drum set by the way. How do you know what to do with that many cymbals?" she asked. She knocked on Toki's door. No one answered.

"Ah, he's probly in the studio, we're almost done with da album," said Pickles.

"Come on, I'll lead ya down there,"

She followed him down the stairs, fully aware that he had avoided her question. As they decended, the hallways gave way from bloodred with black trim to black with red trim. Pickles led her directly into the studio. Toki sat in Nathan's chair with his back to them. Nathan himself was in the studio, singing in that deep, cookie-monster voice he had.

"Oh, hi Pickle. Hi Freya. We's recordin the last song for the album before we sends it in to sa label," said Toki.

They sat and listened to Nathangrowl for a bit longer before Pickles nudged her and jerked a thumb towards the open part of the studio. She followed him.

"I'll be in here with Pickles. He's gonna show me his drum set," she said to her brother. She figured he would stay in that section of the studio and monitor the recording.

Pickles got behind his drum set and began adjusting things. She wondered what on earth he was doing until he got up again and made gestures towards the stool. He wanted her to sit there.

"Wait, what? You want me to plays your set?" she asked. Her english was better than either Toki or Skwisgaar's, but every now and again, she caught herself slipping up. Damned tongue.

She shrugged and figured what the hell. If she screwed up, she could blame it on nerves. Plus, she was still a bit sick.

She began with a basic four-beat thing going on, then decided to break free and wail on the several other drums now available to her in a rapid solo. She wasn't used to two seperate bass durms, she she made do.

Pickles stopped her half way through and to her surprise, he looked half bewildered, half annoyed.

She handed his sticks back to him and got up, not wanting to hog the spot light.

"Why the hell d'ya gat dat crappy set'a drums?" he demanded in his strange but not unpleasant Wisconsin accent. In fact, he would even be attractive looking if he were younger and smiled more, she thought. She blushed at this thought and immediately set her mind to the Halloween party. She still hadn't decided on a costume yet.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"What do I mean? Are you kiddin'? You're dat good an' ya gat that crappy set, man. Tell ya what. I gat another set dat's older and I don't use it much. It's in that spare room off the main one. You can use it if ya wanna, okay?" he asked.

She shrugged. She had never been complemented before, although she knew she wasn't bad.

Back in the recording section, Toki looked over at her and smiled.

"Wowee, was that you on za drums?" he asked.

"Um... yeah. I'm better on rums than guitar, no offense," she replied.

Nathan stopped singing and came out of the recording booth.

"Hi, Freya," he growled.

"Hi."

"Did you remember to hit record?" he asked Toki.

"Yup!" All recorded!" he replied.

"Good. Let's get this stupid thing to the label before they chew us new assholes," said Nathan. Freya giggled, imagining it.

If only she knew what to wear for the halloween party/release party.

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PLEASE REVIEW!


	17. Pickles's crush

Hey, this one is from Pickle's POV. He really has a crush on this girl, hahaha. Just review

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He _had_ been standing right outside her door when she was singing. He knew it was her singing, cause when her stereo played, he could feelt he walls vibrate through the stone. There was no vibrate. Just her voice and her drumming.

Her drumming. He had known she had a set, but he'd had no idea. With skill like hers, a simple beginner kit with fewer than five pieces excluding cymbals... restricted her. It was why he had opted to let her use his older set in the storage area.

Now he watched her as she and her brother walked out of the recording studio, chatting about the upcoming halloween party. He caught the word "party", but other than that, they were talking in Norwegian. He had no clue. He assumed.

Nathan went on ahead and Pickles followed.

Ever since that first day when they'd been lost in the snow, he had been watching her. Only two things stopped him from hitting on her.

One, she was _way_ too young. She was eighteen and looked sixteen. He was nearly 31. What would the media say??

Two, she was Toki's little sister. He had seen him drag her out of Spencers the day before when the clerk had said something. He knew Toki could get mean when he wanted to. The guy had muscles. He wasn't remotely afriad of Toki. He just didn't want to do anything to disrupt the band's inner workings.

Now, walking, he decided he would just settle for friends. At least until she got a bit older or Toki calmed down enough.

But her hair was what got him the most. Blood red and wavy, it was a hot color but he bet it felt silky smooth and cold. Her eyes were creepy, but only a little bit. Looking her in the eyes was like looking intimately at Toki's. A bit unsettling. And she had this way of gazing at people and things that made her look obliviously innocent. It unnerved him, made him want to lay off the booze, made him want to treat her like a little kid.

He follwed them to the main room where the roadies were setting for the party in a few days. Setting the couches up against the walls, tucking the computer away so no douchebag fans could get to it. He took a seat on the couch that was pushed up by the fireplace.

"So? What's everyone comin' to the party as?" he asked.

"I'm comin as a Vikings," said Toki, shrugging.

"I dunno yet," said Freya.

"I'm coming as a serial killer!" said Murderface.

Freya smirked.

"Typical."

"I'm goings to bes a super metal guitar god," said Skwisgaar.

"I thought you can't come as yourself?" asked Freya. Pickles started laughing. Sure, he was good, but a metal god??

"Hey, shuts up!" he said.

Freya laughed, a giggle that sounded nothing like her usual voice. She sounded like a little kid when she laughed. Cute.

He couldn't help it. He watched her.

Damn whatever Toki thought.

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He has a serious case of puppy love. Uh oh! Somebody slap the drummer! PLEASE REVIEW!


	18. Dress up

MOO

The party's almost here.

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Freya noticed Pickles looking at her, but she payed it no mind. He probably liked her. She got those kind of looks all the time when she was in school and ignored them. High school age people annoyed her to no end.

She gnored the attractive redhead for the moment and instead thought again of what to be for the party. A vampire? No. Vampires had darker hair, that she knew of. A Valkyrie? She didn't have anything like armor.

She did have those plastic tooth cap vampire fangs, but they were too big for her mouth.

While she thought about it, the rest of the band decided to call it a night and went to bed.

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Over the next few days, Toki kept asking the roadies if any packages had come for him. Every day, they said no. He was beginning to worry that the packages wouldn't come in time for the release party.

But luck was with him. The day before the release of their newest album, and the halloween combination release party, the packages came. Three boxes, one larger than the others.

Delighted, he tore off to his bedroom without an explanation. He knew the others were wondering what on earth was wrong with him, but he didn't give a damn.

He tore open the boxes and began arranging the items inside with the leather armor he had got for Freya at the mall. Perfect.

He went to look for her. He wanted to make this a surprise.

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Twenty minutes later, he found her playing a set of drums. He recognized it as the set Pickles used until he got his newer set. He wondered if he knew she was using it. He probably did. He got the feeling the drummer liked his sister. That was good. At least someone else from Dethklok did.

"Come ons! I gots somesing to shows you!" he said urgently.

She looked surprised for a moment before he grabbed her wrist and began tugging her towards the door.

He brought her to his bedroom and showed her what he had layed out on his bed, which was made.

Her expression was skeptical at first.

"For yours! For sa Halloween party! You could be de goddess Freya!" he said.

"Wow... where did you get all this stuff?" she asked, running a hand over the white skirt. It was bunched up and rippled and had large slits up both legs, stopping just below the hips. It reached the bottom of her shins and looked sort of Roman and sort of goddess-ie.

"The internet," he replied.

"You mean, you bought all this? Toki..." she started, then trailed off. Toki understood, although he wasn't sure how. She had grown up in a shelter, a place for unwanted kids. She wasn't used to money and she wasn't used to people buying things for her. She might even think she didn't deserve such niceties.

But he thought she would be a hit at the party. He wanted her to look nice. Maybe it would encourage her to make more friends. She might even get a boyfriend, he thought, smirking. That would be cool. Then Nathan couldn't accuse her of doing nothing around Mordhaus. She would have somewhere else to be.

He just wanted her to be happy, was what it was.

"Can I try it all on?" she asked.

"Yeahs!" said Toki. It was why he had got it, after all! So she could wear it!

He turned around so she could get changed and instead he stared at the photos of his parents that hung on his wall. Solemn, always. Never smiling. He wondered if they had _ever_ smiled.

"Okay. I just can't get this thing tightened," she said from behind him.

He turned back around and saw that she wore the skirt and the armor but not the hair circlet or the necklace.

She was struggling to tighten the leather lacings on the sides of the armor. He helped her out and when it was adjusted to fit her, she looked a bit less like herself and a bit more like the determined and much beloved ancient goddess she was named after. Still too thin, though.

He had no idea how to deal with the golden hair circlet, so he left that. Maybe the Mordhaus librarian would be able to help her with that.

She put the necklace on and looked at herself in the mirror he had on the wall.

"Wow. I look like those paintings of the goddess," she said, and she attempted a humorless smile. Did she like it?

"I love it, Toki, wow. This is so cool," she said, and then she truly smiled. She had been named correctly. Freya. Goddess of beauty and love and hope to wounded soldiers on the battlefiled.

She turned back to him.

"What are you going as?" she asked.

"A viking. People always calls me a vikings child, so I'm going as a viking so they has an excuse," he said, and he pointed to the horned helmet in the corner.

"Wow, cool. So a viking and a Nord Goddess, huh? We'll be a hit," she said, joking. She turned back into the mirror and straightened the ornate necklace at her throat.

"Tomorrow, right?" she asked.

"Yup. Come ons! Let's go ask the librorian if she cans helps you wis the hair thing!" said Toki.

He and his sister headed in the direction of the library.

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PLEASE REVIEW!!!!


	19. Release party

Hey, for anyone who knows what a music release party is and what it entails, please feel fgree to correct me, cause I prob have it all wrong. And, if you DO know what it entail and have actually been to one... HOOK ME UP WITH DETH METAL PPL! I have no one to jam with... :(

Please review

this one is gonne be really long

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The release party was wholly unfamiliar. People, wherever she looked.

She had pulled her bangs back in twisy spirals and made a circlet of hair. She had decided to leave small tendrils of hair in her face and the Mordhaus librarian had halped her with the golden hair piece. It rested on her forehead level with her hairline. Her outfit wasn't too bothersome. She had asked and gotten permission to borrow a couple daggers and a sword from Murderface and now they were lashed to a belt she had borrowed from Nathan. All in all, her costume looked cool.

Toki was a hit with his. The band were all making fun of him, but he didn't seem to mind. He was too nusy stuffing his face full of candy. There were massive bowls of it scattered all around the huge room that they had had to move the party to. Too many people had showed up. Nathan told her it was the room they used for intra-Mordhaus shows and band rehersal. It was certainly big enough.

Everywhere she looked, costumed fans were milling about. The roadies were deterring anyone from stealing things and she noticed that she was getting more attention than she was used to. She wasn't sure if it was her costume.

It might have been the fact that she kept going places that the roadies were stopping the fans from going. Such as sitting on the edge of the stage that they used for rehersal and walking to and from the main section of the Haus that the fans had been barred from.

"How come _she_ gets free access?" asked one snotty looking girl in a skimpy top that said "Explode me".

"I know, rilly, she's not even that smexy. You think she's into that Toki Wartooth guy?" said the snotty girl's friend.

She approached them but stayed close to a nearby roadie. She did not want trouble.

"I'm not into Toki. I'm his little sister. I live here. Keep your opinions to yourself," she said coldly.

"Ugh. What _ever_."

My god, she hated people like that. Not two brain cells to rub together. Were all Americans so braindead??

Everywhere she went, she was pushed and shoved. She wouldn't have minded so much if she wasn't wearing a skirt. If only she really _was_ a goddess... then she could get away with murder. Wait... did the pain waivers exempt her from blame if someone died because of her?

She began shoving back through the crowd, past people in featherd masks, with vampire paint on, past people dressed almost nude, past men, women, young and old who were all dressed in costume.

She got one of the roadies to help her up onto the stage (the stairs were momentarily blocked) and despite a number os complains, she went behind the stage, which was obscured by the enormous dragon wings.

Back here, Pickles was receiving help with his costume. Apparently, he was trying to dress as a drown victim, but his makeup wasn't coming along so well. They were using all the wrong colors, she thought, frowning slightly. He had even shaved for the occasion. It made him look... strange... like a teenager. He had a baby face. Which explained the facial hair.

"Where's Charles?" she asked Nathan, who was standing nearby, watching the make up fiasco with interest. He was dressed awkwardly in a flor-length black executioner's robe with a hood. His face wasn't made up yet.

Deciding she was bored and because she felt like it, she gently shoved the make up roadie aside and began carefully scrubbing Pickle's face clean of the botched crap. Pink and green... those weren't drown colors, she thought, vaguely disgusted.

"What are you doing?" asked Nathan incredulously.

"Fixing this. I'm bored anyway. I used to do makeup in drama club when I was in high school," she said, and began re-applying the drummer's eye makeup, this time using bruised looking mixes of red and black and purple. She applied the layer extremely thin so he wouldn't look diseased too. She added a touch of bright red eyeliner to the bottom and gently smudged. His skin was soft. Eye makeup would be a bitch.

She mixed two different colored powders to make something just a few shades lighter than his natural skin tone and blended it all in, then dabbed a bit of blue onto his lips. He pursed them to make it easier for her, but ended up swallowing the lipstick. He gagged and opened his eyes. He saw her.

"Yah! What the hell are you doing?" he gasped, clearly surprised.

"Makeup. The other guy had a hand up his ass," she said, and smiled.

He remained still and allowed her to finish the lipstick, and grudgingly allowed her to mess up his hair, putting the dreds that formed his combover into something more messy. The rest of his hair was too long, so she just messed it up as best she could. A few dead leaves and a little mud and water and he'd look authentic.

"We got the water," said Murderface, grinning evilly and handed her a bucket of water. It looked cold. He was dressed in an authentic civil war uniform from the Confederate side. He looked odd not wearing shorts.

Smiling, she held the bucket in one arm against her rub cage and dipped Pickle's hair into the water, soaking it. She messed it up again. There. Now he looked like a drown victim. Sometimes, less makeup was better.

"Wow. He looks... dead," said Nathan, gazing at the drummer as if he had never seen him properly.

"Lemme see," he said, and he snatched the makeup tray from Freya and stared at himself in the little mirror. Hie eyes went wide, and he smiled.

"Nice job," he said, grinning evilly.

She smiled back and his grin faltered a little bit.

"Me next!" said Nathan happily, albeit with the usual glare on his face.

He replaced Pickles in the chair.

"Let me guess. Skull," she said dully.

"Duh."

She got to work. His cheekbones stuck out. It wasn't too hard. She simply traced the outline of his actual skull. His face was harder than Pickle's and his skin was just as smooth. She painted him white and black and smudged the black near his eyes. His nose was a bit more difficult. She simply dabbed a bit of black at the nasal bone between his eyes and smeared extra white on the rest of it. With any luck, the lighting and the hood would make it appear as if his nose had disappeared.

He didn't take that long.

"Done."

"Metal," he said, gazing at himself in the mirror. His lips had been painted black. He never wore lipstick. Ever. Although, he did wear nail polish, so he supposed it had only been a matter of time.

"All done with the makeup? Oh. my god." said a new voice.

Charles had come in and seen Pickles and Nathan.

"Good, huh? Freya did it," said Pickles, shrugging. He messed up his own hair even more, so it was plastered to the side of his face. One of his combover dreds hung limp against the front of his cheek. His bald head gleamed dully in the lights.

Nathan pulled his hair back into a very loose ponytail, so endrils of it came loose and hung in his face. He put hs hood up. So he _was_ the grim reaper.

She hoped down off her little stool, set the makeup down and ran over to the band manager and lawyer.

"I had a question for you," she said.

"Yes?" he asked.

"The pain waivers the fans sign. Do they exempt me from blame as well? Or just Dethklok?" she asked.

Everyone was silent for a moment.

"Well, it refers to the band by surnames, and yours _is_ Wartoothso I suppose, yes. Why? Thinking of killing everyone?" he asked.

"No. Just one in particular," she said, only half joking.

"Okay. The roadies are selling the CD at all those little tables and all you have to do is play a few songs from it. We're done with the release party. The sponsors and some people from the label will be here shortly. Have a good time," he said.

The band all grabbed their instruments. Skwisgaar resembled something from The Matrix with a strip of black over his eyes and the bridge of his nose. His lips were also painted black. He looked ridiculous. Overdone. To each their own.

"You uh... lok nice," said someone and she turned to see Pickles, the drowned man. He was eyeing her costume up and down.

"Yeah, Toki bought it for me. I'm suposed to be the Goddess Freya, what do you think? I look the part?" she asked, twirling stupidly. The look on her face suggested that she didn't enjoy garrumping around in a skirt, but she actually really liked it. (A/N: If "garrumping" isn't a word, it is now)

"Yeah. Look good," he said, as if it were no big deal.

"She's gorgeous! I must have her!! Lemme up there!"

They all turned at the voice.

"What the fuck-?" she said, her eyes wide, her expression skeptical.

They peered around the front of the stage and saw three roadies struggling to contain one man in a biker jacket and covered in tatoos. He looked deranged.

"I sink he's talking abouts you, Freya," said Toki conversationally.

She walked out on to the stage on a whim and to avoid spotlight, sat on the very edge, feet from the crowd. The roadies had managed to subdue the man.

"What's she doing?" asked Toki from backstage.

"Search me, she's your sister," replied Pickles.

Back up front, Freya slid down off the stage and quickly lost herself in the crowd. Now the man would never find her.

Just ahead, she spotted the snobby girl with the punky hair and the skimpy shirt. Perfect.

She had never done this before, but she knew she could. She wanted to. Just to say she had. While she could get away with it...

She pulled one of Murderface's daggers from her belt and, sneaking up behind the girl, she brought her arm around the girl's throat and in one quick movement, slashed it wide open. Blood sprayed everywhere and one guy nearby began cheering and flashing devil horns.

"Yaah, Dethklok!" he cheered, and the cheer was taken up by the rest of the crowd. She wiped the bloody dagger on the girl's shirt and sheathed it. She walked away as if she'd done nothing wrong. Better yet, she hadn't gotten any blood on her clothing.

She had killed someone. And she didn't care. She was truly a part of Dethklok now.

Smiling, she partook in some candy as well and joined the crowd as her older brother's band came out onstage and began playing. Nathan even had a scye tucked into his belt, although it was slightly shorter than he was. He had to be able to walk.

They were awesome. Beter live than on CD. She edged towards one of the tables where the roadies were selling the new album and began reading off the back of one.

"Take it!" the roadie in charge of selling screamed to be heard over the music.

"Thanks!" she yelled back, and she went backstage to tuck it into a piece of Murderface's costume. He had removed the upper portiion of his costume before going onstage. Apparently the stage lights were hot.

She watched the rest of that song from backstage, flashing her brother encouraging smiles whenever he looked back. He was swinging his long hair around and his helmet had long since fallen off. He still looked like a Viking to her, though. Part of his hair had been sloppily braided.

After their first song was done, they all went backstage.

"Hey, could you fix the makeup? It's starting to run," sid Nathan.

Freya got a wash towel and told him to sit so she could reach his face. He did and closed his eyes.

She blotted his face free of sweat and reapplied what makeup needed it. Much better.

"Yeah, me too," said Pickles, and he quickly took Nathan's vacated seat and waited for her to start.

His makeup was fine, except for the lips. She fixed it and said, "done."

He got up and at that moment, three men came backstage, accompanied by two roadies with guns. The men were dressed in costume, too. One wore a viking costume like Toki, except this man had a fake beard and an axe. The fatter man was dressed in a flannel shirt and torn jeans and also had a fake beard. The third was the more normal of them all and wore a simple black robe.

"Hey, it's been awhile, guys!" said the taller man, smiling graciously. His voice had a fruity, unctuous note to it that Freya disliked on contact. She also noticed that his hands were robotic.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" grumbled Nathan. He was talking to the man with the robotic hands.

"Dat's Twinkletits, our therapist. His arms were chewed off by sa wolv ez," muttered Toki.

She nodded, understanding.

The other two men were more welcome than Twinkletits. They were apparently from the sponsors.

"I'm suposed to be a mountanier, whaddaya think?" asked the fat man, holding his arms out for inspection.

"Not bad," said Freya.

The fat man shifted his gaze to her and smiled, holding out a ahnd. Apparently, he was extremely good natured. She took it.

"The name's Sparks. I'm here representing the Williams street track, one of Dethklok's sponsors. You are?" he asked.

"Freya Wartooth," she said. She released his hand.

"Wartooth? So the media was right, then? You are Toki's newest friend?" asked the man.

"His sister,"she corrected him.

"I'm Timothy, and I'm here representing Dethklok's other sponsor. You look lovely, Miss Wartooth," said the man in the viking costume. He shook her hand as well.

Now that the introductions were finished, the two new men started talking with Charles Ofdensen. Twinkletits immediately stole his chance.

"So. Are you and Toki really brother and sister?" he asked her in an undertone, smiling. He was freaking her out. He was like a gay version of Mr Rogers intent on eating her up with his eyes.

"Yes," she said, liking him less and less every second.

"Bet'chood like to get a night out with one of the guys, eh?" he asked, smiling as if he were sharing some important secret with her.

She kneed Twinkletits in the crotch and walked away without a word. God, he gave her the creeps.

"He say sumthin he shouldn't've?" asked Pickles, who was ignoring the sponsor's arrival.

"Asked if I wouldn't like a night out with one of you guys. He's... creepy. I don't like him," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the man on the floor clutching himself.

To her surprise, Pickles didn't laugh. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Then,

_"Would_ you?"

"I'm sorry, what?" she said, not sure she had heard him correctly. Was he asking her for an answer to Twinkletit's question or asking one of his own?

"Like a night out with one of us," he asked. Underneath the drowned makeup, he looked rather nervous. Pickles, consumer of everything legal ansd illegal was nervous? Why?

As they talked, someone else got up onstage and started talking. She wasn't paying any attention.

"Are you asking this in general, or are you talking about yourself?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. She knew the answer already. She was just baiting him. She wouldn't mind a night or day out with the red head.

Back up on stage, another band began to play and she actually recognized this one. Dimmu Borgir. They had come all the way over from Norway, like her, to be at Mordhaus. She almost wanted to go around up to the front of the stage and see them live, but she resisited. She would probably get the chance to meet them backstage after.

"I was takin' about me. You wanna do sumthin sometime?" he asked over the music.

Smiling, she leaned forward so he could hear her better and answered.

"Sure!" she yelled.

Pickles grinned and when he thought she wasn't looking, he pumped the air with his fist.

"Yes!"

She saw. And she smiled.

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At the end of the release party, the halloween party began. Music was being played by a DJ over a quadruple set of loudspeakers. A cotume contest was being held and the winner would get a special gift. Band members were included. Toki entered everyone from Dethklok and Freya. She seemed to be enjoying herself, at least. She had taken her hair piece out and was now headbanging along with Pickles, Skwisgaar and Nathan. Fans around them were cheering but being held at bay by three different roadies with guns. One fan got too close. The gunshot echoed across the entire room.

Toki was happily stuffing himself with candy, even though his mouth was starting to hurt. He liiked candy. He got it free from his endorsements and it was expensive stuff back home in Norway, so he ate all of it that he could.

Halfway through the halloween party, he saw that his sister was drinking with Pickles and Nathan, albeit not the harder stuff. It was fine. She was of age. He decided to get something to drink, too. Get the taste of taffy out of his mouth. He hated taffy.

He joined them.

Half an hour later, they were all pretty tipsy. He was still lucid enough to register the fact that Pickles seemed to be much happier than usual when he was drunk. Freya was extremely giggly.

"I will now announce the winner of the costume contest! Murderface, the fish bowl, please," said someone from up onstage. The music had been stopped.

Murderface, now back in his confederate shirt, held up a fishbowl full of bits of paper. Toki had helped write the names down for people who had entered. First, Charles would pull out ten names and those people would go up onstage. Then they would pass the bowl around and whoever felt half assed voted on who's costume was best.

The whole costume contest had been his idea from the start. It would be fun.

Charles called up Pickles, Freya, a guy from Dimmu Borgir named Shagrath Thoresen. His cotsume was pretty cool. Some sort of decaying demon thing. Four fans, Toki wasn't listening to their names, but their costumes were pretty crappy. Another girl from a different band that had only played part of one song before being booed off the stage. She was dressed as a naughty nurse. And then Toki himself.

He joined the rest of those onstage and stood beside his sister. She had fixed her messed up hair and replaced her hair piece. Pickles stood on her other side, wearing a grim expression, as if really drowned. He was a good actor.

They all waited as the bowl was passed from person to person within the front and second rows and handed back up to charles. He took all the names out and began divi-ing them up on who got more votes. Two piles were significantly bigger than the rest.

Charle called all four fans off the stage, and then the girl from the crap band. Now it was just Pickles, Toki, Freya and Shagrath Thoresen.

"Looks like theee... winner of this thing is Freya Wartooth," said Charles.

There was applause and screaming. From over at the left side of the rooom, a few dozen fans were calling her name.

"Hey, dat's great, Freya! You win!" said Toki, smiling. It really was great, he thought, because he knew what the prize for best costume was.

She blushed scarlet, making her pale cheeks look fevered and flushed. Charles handed her what at first glance appeared to be a piece of chain. Actually, it was a necklace he had gotten for himself as a teenager with a demon skull pendant. It was all he could think of for a prize since the costume contest had been a spur of the moment idea.

The man from Dimmu Borgir approached her and smiled, distorting his makeup. He had shoulder length dark hair.

"Nice one. Knew there was no contest if you were in it," he complimented her. (A/N: I have no idea what Shagrath's personality is like, so to prevent tarnishing it unnecesarily, I will remove him from this chapter) Pickles congratulated her too, with a quick kiss on the cheek. He jumped offstage and went tumbling into a solid wall of fans. He was tipsy.

Shagrath left and Toki helped his sister put his old necklace on. She stared down at it and smiled.

This party was awesome!!

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PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do not own Dimmu Borgir, or metalocalypse.


	20. Dateklok

Heheheheheheh. Many thanks for Purpleleemer for all her kind reviews and thanks, as always, to my "little sister", Joanna. She may not be blood related, but she's definitely close enough.

THANKS!! (BIG HUGGLES)

Anyway, this is Pickle's first real date in you don't wanna know how many years. WARNING: MAY BE EXPLICIT CONTENT... like anyone reading this'll care, it's already M.

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Freya woke up the next morning at first not sure where she was or what she had done the night before. She was in her bed and still dressed in costume. There was a stain of some sort on the front of her leather armor. It smelled like wine.

She got out of her own bed, sighed and began changing her outfit. The leather had stuck to her in the night and in the end, she ended up untying the sides and pulling it over her head that way. The demon pendant she's gotten as a prize the night before fell against her bare flesh, cold steel. She peeled her skirt off as well and folded her clothes up to be washed later. She pulled on a ragged old black t shirt and a pair of weathered black pants that were getting too big on her. She had lost a lot of weight and she would have loved to know why. She barely weighed over 100 pounds on the American bathroom scale.

She ran a brush through he tangled hair a couple times and left her room in search of something to bang on.

She didn't run into anyone else except the occasional roadie on her way to the storage room where the band's unused instruments were stored. It was where Pickle's older drum set was. Speaking of Pickles...

As she approached the set, laying next to the drumsticks she usually left behind was a note written in a scribbly but legible hand.

"Freya

How about the 28 at around 8 pm. meet me by the murdercycle,

Pickles"

She folded up the note and remembered the day before. The candy, the wine, the headbanging, the exhileration of being around people she actually liked, namely, Dethklok. They had grown on her, even the grumpy Nathan. She remembered laughing with her brother and accepting when Pickles asked her out. The 28th was today.

Slightly more awake now, she tossed the note on the ground and began to play, a much bouncier and less metal beat to her drumming than normal.

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Pickles woke up much later than Freya, amidst a litter of the usual beer cans and bottles. His alarm was going off and he fumbled for the switch that would shut the crappy thing off. Still slightly groggy, he rubbed his eyes. For a moment he couldn't think of why his hand came away smeared slightly purple. Then he remembered the release party. Not bad. And he had gotten a date, so all in all, one of the better ones. He still remembered their last release party, when they came out with Dethwater. Tranquilizer gun-fights weren't all that exciting when half of you were asleep and twitching.

He got up and began scrubbing his face with a mix of cold cream and wwarm water, which woke him up a lot faster than booze. Then he blew his nose and began getting dressed. Black top, dark blue pants, tennis shoes.

He straightened his hair out and fixed his usual combover. His lips were stil faintly blue, so he scrubbed at them until they looked pink. Dammit.

He had to admit, he was a bit nervous. He was a musician for crying out loud! He had been able to sleep with pretty much whatever woman he had wanted over the years, and now this. His first real date since he was fresh out of high school. Dimly, he wondered if Toki knew. Or if he would even care.

He finished what he had to do and made his way towards the main room of the house to see what there was for breakfast.

On his way there, he passed the storage room where he kept his old set hidden. He heard someone drumming away in there and remembered the note he'd written the night before. He thought she'd gotten it. There was no way she couldn't've.

Either way, she was sounding pretty damn good. Nice steady one-two beat this time. Nothing hurried or super metal, but... nice.

He went on his way.

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Toki woke up much more unexpectedly.

There was a vicious kick and it sent him sprawling onto the stone floor. He awoke immediately and felt foolish, trapped on the floor tangled up in his blanket. He blearily extricated himself from it and got to his feet. He was still wearing his costume from the release party, minus the sword and helmet, so he got changed, brushed his hair and headed down to the main room for food. His stomach felt strangely empty, despite all the candy he had eaten the night before.

He met Pickles and sat down. Pickles pressed the button that would alert Jean Pierre that someone was hungry and they both waited.

"Lastnight was fun," said Toki, remembering with fondness headbanging with his sister and his band mates, drinking, eating candy, singing onstage, the guitar, the lights, the people, the sounds. That was hands down the best release party he had ever taken part in.

"Nnn," grunted the drummer. He still looked tired in Toki's opinion.

Moments later, Jean Pierre came into the room carrying a larger tray filled with six plates of food. Toki smelled his favorite pickle herring and just wanted his damn sandwhich.

As he dug into his fish, Freya came into the room, dressed, as was usual, in her secondhand rags. Toki frowned; they were a lot bigger on her than usual. Why the heck was she losing so much weight? Was it just the move from Norway to Michigan? He had lost a ton of weight crossing seas, true, but not _that_ much.

She took a seat across from him and beside Pickles and put her chin down on her hands. She sighed.

"Have funs last night?" asked Toki, referring to the party.

"Yeah. Fun party. I killed a girl for calling me ugly," she said as if it were no big deal. People around Mordhaus had a habit of dying. He had no idea what they meant by it.

"Big surprise," muttered Pickles.

"Waits, you killed a girl? _You_?" Toki asked, not sure if he heard her correctly. Sure, he'd killed people before, mostly by accident... but Freya just seeemed more... quiet than that. Apparently he had underestimated her brutality. His respect and admiration for his younger sibling went up another notch.

"Where'd you wanna go at 8?" she asked Pickles, her eyes still filled with sleep. She looked exhausted.

"Go?" said Toki, puzzled. He finished his pickle herring sandwhich and started on another.

"Ya. We gat a date or sum'n tonight," said Pickles. He sounded more tired than she looked. He put his head back on his arms and ignored his breakfast of individually wrapped popsicles. Jean Pierre knew just what each member liked best. For Freya, it was crisped bacon and toast.

"Oh, dat's cool," he said, shrugging. In truth, he had guessed the drummer had a thing for her. He was glad for them. Pickles was an okay guy when he wasn't totally high. He was funny when he was drunk. She needed someone else to hang around with other than himself. Let her get out once in awhile.

"Really?" said Pickles.

"Yeah, why not?" he said, shrugging. It really wasn't a surprise. Why did Pickles looks unconvinced?

He finished his second sandwhich and watched as Skwisgaar, then Nathan entered the room.

"Where's Murderface?" he asked.

"Stills asleeps. I tink he's wiz a fans or sometings," yawned Skwisgaar.

"Dat's new," said Toki, somewhat surprised. Murderface usually slept with hookers, not fans.

Moments later, Murderface came in. Unlike the rest of them, he looked wide awake.

"Hey, Freya ya still got thosh schordsh?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. I'll drop them off at your room after breakfast," she said, and she began munching on her bacon.

"Kay." Murderface, Nathan and Skwisgaar began eating their breakfast too.

"Where's Ofdensen?" muttered Pickles, beginning to unwrap one of his popsicles.

"Don'ts know," muttered Skwisgaar.

Once they were alll done breakfast, Toki got up to head to the main room to soak in the hot tub for awhile. He didn't pay attention to where Freya went.

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Freya and Pickles finished their breakfast at the same time and when Pickles got up to leave, he motioned to Freya to follow him.

Wondering what he wanted so soon, she followed him down a hallway. He was leading her towards the storage room where he kept his drums.

She followed him in and he shut the door behind her and took a seat behind his kit.

"You wanna give me a lesson?" she asked, a bit confused.

"No. I wanted ta tak to you bout later. Where ya wanna go?" he asked.

She shrugged. She liked moveis, but that seemed a bit too straightforward for a first date.

"I'll be honest with ya. I haven't been on a date since high school," he admitted, fingering the drumsticks she had left behind. There was a sharp splintering near the tips of one and the other was badly dented. She had spares in her room.

"I don't knows. Maybe a film?" she suggested.

"Film? Oh, movie, yeah. Why not," he said, and he beat out a rapid series of beats on the drums, soloing his head off. He was very very good.

She found herself tapping her foot with the beat but before she could get the hang of one, he would switch to a different one.

He played for a few minutes and handed her the sticks, inviting her to play. She took his seeat and before she started, the tore the splinter out of the left stick.

She bgean with a very basic four beat rythm before going into a military-style solo and then going completely crazy, drumming as fast as she could. She melded that into a nearly perfect imitation of Pickle's drum beat in the song Murmaider. She spared a glance at the better drummer and saw that he was tapping his hands on his thighs and nodding, smiling.

She stopped drumming and brushed her hair out of her eyes. Pickles approached her and took her sticks. He rummaged around in a corner and handed her a pair of sleek black ones with red tips. His name was painted across the side in bright orange. They were custom sticks.

"Try these out," he said.

She shrugged and obliged. They were superb. She even managed a dainty little rythm on the rim of the snare before ending it with a crescendo on the ride cymbal.

"Bravo," said Pickles, mock clapping, and she handed his sticks back to him. He shook his head.

"Keep'em, I get loads of those things free every few months," he said.

"Thanks," she said, and she tucked them into a back pocket.

"No prob," he said.

They both looked a little awkward then, because there wwas nothing more to talk about. She knew exactly what was going through his mind. She liked him. She knew he liked her. They were both simply being courteous before a first date. She remembered the smooth feel of his skin and for no reason at all started wondering what his lips would feel like.

"Right, well... I told Toki I'd beat him at Dance Master Revolution. See you at 8," she said, and she left the room.

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He just decided to go as himself this time around. Black cutoff shirt, blue jeans, tennis shoes. His usual outfit.

He met her near the murdercycle where he;d specified in the note and was glad to see that she had sipersed with the raggy secondhand crap and had changed into a worn imitation black casmier sweater and the white skirt from the halloween party. She wore a pair of calf high combat boots with it. He smirked- on anyone else, the outfit would have looked ridiculous, but on her it looked alright.

He detached the sidecars and wheeled the cycle out front and got on. Behind him he felt her slide her hands around his waist and she clasped her hands across his stomach.

He started the murdercycle and they were off.

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The movie was a slasher film that they had just happened to catch upon arriving. Pickles loved slasher films. Judging by the way she laughed, so did she.

When it was over, he figured he may as well show her around Michigan. He drove to lake Michigan and showed her where he and his friends used to play when they were kids.

"An' my brother almost drowned me once, douchebag," he said, pointing towards the large elm tree. Thought of his stupid older brother filled him with the usual hatred. Stupid bastard.

He felt her put her hand on his and squeeze reassuringly.

"I honestly don't know what it's like to hate my brother. He's... sweet. He's been nothing but nice to me ever since we met," she admitted, staring up at the sky. Night had fallen and the only ligjht came from the moon. The lake had taken on a black, tarry look. It was a clear night. It was also a cold one.

Shivering, he got to his feet and started the murdercycle again.

They headed back to Mordhaus.

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By the time they got back he was freezing. He couldn't get inside andin front of a fire fast enough. He had just gotten on the couch in front of the fire in the main room when he realized he hadn't had so much as a beer all day. Strangely, he didn't feel like one.

She joined him and shivered. Her lips were blue.

"C'mon," he said, inviting her to snuggle. There was no one around anyway, it was too late. They were probably all asleep.

She snuggled close to him and shivered for a few seconds before settling down. He wrapped his arm around her and realized Nathan had been right about what they had been discussing the week before; she had lost a lot of weight. He could feel her shoulder bone through her sweater.

"Dood, you should see the doctor we gat here. You lost a lot since bein' here," he suggested.

She sighed.

"I know. I never liked doctors. I don't like being poked and prodded," she admitted.

They were so close he could smell the honey-citrus scent of whatever shampoo she must use. Before he knew what he was doing, he was kissing her.

She had a tongue ring!

He almost laughed. Toki's little sister was always full of surprises.

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She kissed him back and was surprised at how soft yet unyielding his mouth was. He sure knew how to kiss, though.

She wrapped her arms further around him and was surprised to discover that he was pretty thin, too. Strange for someone who drank so much.

She had kissed a lot in high school, but never officially dated anyone. She had never had sex. She didn't really care who she lost her virginity to, so long as it wasn't some asshole.

Pickles pushed her back down onto the couch and she felt that eager longing in the pit of her stomach as the kissing intensified. He was burying his fingers in her hair and kissing her and she snuck her hands under his shirt. He shivered.

"Shit, yer hands are cold!" he gasped. She laughed.

That invited a rather furious bout of kissing and he stripped his shirt off.

She didn't see any reason to tell him she was still a virgin. He would find out soon enough.

She twirled his dredlocks between her fingers and held the base of his neck with her other hand as they made out on the couch in front of the fire. She could feel everything through her skirt, including his hand on her thigh. She could also feel the bulge through his pants and she wanted nothing more than him.

He fumbled with her sweater and she peeled it off for him.

As they clumsily tried stripping each other, Charles Ofdensen chose that moment to walk in, planning on a long soak in the hot tub. He stopped when he heard the panting of frenzied kissing and decided (very quickly) to have his soak in a different hot tub.

Pickles and Freya Wartooth were laying on the couch together, and they looked busy to him

_At least someone's having their fun. I never get a vacation_, he thought to himself, and he left. They hadn't seen him.

Pickles had by now managed to kick his pants off and she saw he was freeballing. He didn;t have bad inchage. (A/N: Again, I am inventing words as I go. If you really care aboout proper english that bad, sue me)

He tugged her skirt down and by this time both of them had warmed up considerably.

She nipped the skin at the base of his neck and was pleased when she heard him make a surprised noise.

"Gaahd... bite me, why don't ya."

"My pleasure," she said and she nibbled at him again. He grabbed her and pulled her so close that his member poked her hard in the stomach. He began kissing her so hard that their lips were mashed up against their teeth.

She peeled her skirt off and now she was half naked, him, completely naked.

She let him strip her bottoms off and he positioned himself, sliding in as far as she figured he was able. She felt a strange, distanrt sharp pain as the thin layer of skin broke and she was no longer a vrigin.

His eyes went wide.

"My gahd, why din't you tell anyone?" he gasped.

She glared at him and ran her nails down his chest. She had always wanted to do that...

"Just do me," she moaned.

He shrugged and pushed himself the rest of the way in and the fun began. He filled her up as she had never been filled before. This was exquisite, this was _great_. They seemed to be breathing on the same scale, rocking back and forth. His hair hung at the side of his face and his cheeks were flushed. He was beautiful.

She would never, ever forget tonight.

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Hahahaha, I know, sex on the first date. I may as well change the genre of this thing to family and romance. Odd coupling, I know, but meh. Sue me. Again, I have no idea where I'm taking this. Suggestions are open.

PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!


	21. morning after

I have NO IDEA where this is going. Please review and suggest. No Freya is not gonna get preggers

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Pickles awoke the next morning on the couch. He had fallen asleep there in front of the fire. He was wrapped up in his clohtes, his arms and legs tanlged around Freya's.

"Crap... time is it?" he mumbled.

As usual, the room was in darkness, because the skies around Mordland were almost never really sunny, sunny. Not unless they were in the barbeque courtyard.

He settled back down when he figured it was only 4 in the morning. They were in no danger of being found yet.

He snuggled back in and, wrapping his arms more firmly around his new girlfriend, he buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes again.

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When he next awoke, he heard voices. Crap. He was found out.

Expecting someone to yell at him, he disentangled himself and sat up, not bothering to pull his clothes back on. His head had that strange, stretched feeling it did after a night of great sex and saw Nathan and Murderface standing there, fully dressed.

"Hey, Pickles. You might wanna get dressed and you know. Stuff. Toki's walkin' around," said Nathan, glancing once at the smooth white curves of Freya's bare hip. Sometime in the night, she had pulled her skirt to cover the majority of her lower half but it had slipped.

"Nnnyeaaaa..." he mumbled, and he began dressing himself.

He gently shook the girl awake and she came up slower than he did. Eyes half lidded, hair in her face and desheveled, she pulled her clothes back on, not caring or perhaps not noticing the two other men in the room, and shuffled from the room, walking crookedly.

"Wow. She'sh like a zombie or somethin'," said Murderface, watching her go.

"Yeah. Whatever. Hey how old is she?" asked Nathan.

"Mmm wh? Oh... nnn... too hung over... 18..." he mumbled, trying to get his mouth around talking again.

"Wow. Cuttin it, uh, kinda close there, huh?" asked Murderface.

"Nnnn... whatever," he muttered, and he walked from the room as well, intending to go back to bed and sleep for another three hours.

When he got to his room, he found a note on his door, stuck there with a small knife.

"Pickles,

I realy like you. Wanna go out agen sometime?"

Freya"

He tore it down and, entering his room, fell on his bed, fully dressed. He was asleep again in minutes.

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please review!!!!!!


	22. EndKlok

Hey, this'll be the last chapter for this fic, and since I can't figure a good way to end it, I'm just gonna wing it, review if you want. I have aneven better story coming up next, and it involves Dethklok and...the dark ages! Woooo!! Good stuff!

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Very soon, the whole of Mordhaus knew that Toki's little sister was dating Dethklok drummer, Pickles.

Toki didn't mind, so long as he knew Pickles was not hitting her or nothing. Freya seemed happy enough, so he must be alright. It was good to see them happy. Pickles had even laid off the booze more andmore often, although this wasn't like him. He was laying off the drugs, too.

Murderface kept calling her a soul murderer, but she had taken to calling him "dogface". He didn't seem to mind that either. They got along like brother and sister typically did; always at each other's throats.

Meanwhile, tne media was having more of a field day with it than they had when Nathan had started dating Rebecca Nightrod. Now they weren't just planning babies; now they were spreading rumors of a wedding. Wedding! Of all the crazy things!

The rumors pissed Freya off, he could tell. Pickles burned the paper after reading it. No one wanted to get married, not now , not ever. Being single was just so much more fun!

Life at Mordhaus went on. Life around the world went on. People were born. Best of all, people died. They kept playing shows, adding to that number daily. Freya had started playing percussion alongside Pickles, making their music even heavier and ten times louder. Every once in awhile, the crowd could hear her raw, throaty, furious screaming in the background to Nathan's death vocals,and that was alright with them.

When Charles confronted all of them to talk about the upcoming tax season, they were fine with that too. After abandoning the mistakingly-adopted fatty ding dongs on the island of wayward kitties, they were fine, that is.

Before any of them knew it, Freya had been with Dethklok for two years and she and Pickles were still together. Toki couldn't believe it, either, that he would last so long. But Freya was nothing like that bitch Rebecca so the inner workings of the band proceeded unheeded. She let him do pretty much whatever he wanted.

She continued to do the band's makeup too, and Nathan agreed to start paying her for it, so she could stop mooching off Toki.

At the three year mark, they got a ltter in the mail from Norway, telling them that sadly, their parents had passed away, leaving a surprise; everything in his old home in Norway now belonged to the "eldest living relative", which was him. When asked what he wanted to do, he shrugged and said simply, "burn it to de grounds. I don't wants it."

People lived and people died, more than a few by Freya's hand, personally. She was a drummer, a girlfriend, a singer, a cook and, among other things, she was also a good video gamer.

But among other things, she was also the perfect little sister.

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THE END!!!!! PLEASE REVIEW!!!


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